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ENGLISH LESSONS FOR ENGLISH PEOPLE.

ENGLISH LESSONS

FOE ENGLISH PEOPLE.

THE REV. EDWIN A. ABBOTT, MA.,

• I

HEAD MASTER OF THE CITY OF LONDON SCHOOL ;

J. R. SEELEY, M.A.,

PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.

"It is not so much a merit to know English as it is a shame not to know
it ; and I look upon this knowledge as essential for an Englishman, and not
merely for a fine speaker. " — Adapted from Cicero.

THIKD THOUSAND.

SEELEY, JACKSON, AND HALLIDAY, 54, FLEET STREET.
LONDON. MDCCCLXXI.

1ST I

&
>

TO THE

REV. G. F. W. MORTIMER, D.D.,

Prebendary of St. Paul's Cathedral, late Head Master of the
City of London School.

Dear Doctor Mortimer,

We have other motives, beside the respect and grati-
tude which must be felt for you by all those of your old
pupils who are capable of appreciating the work you did at
the City of London School, for asking you to let us dedicate
to you a little book which we have entitled " English
Lessons for English People."

Looking back upon our school life, we both feel that
among the many educational advantages which we enjoyed
under your care, there was none more important than the
study of the works of Shakspeare, to which we and our
schoolfellows were stimulated by the special prizes of the
Beaufoy Endowment.

We owe you a debt of gratitude not always owed by
pupils to their teachers. Many who have passed into a life

IV DEDICATION.

of engrossing activity without having been taught at school
to use rightly, or to appreciate the right use of, their native
tongue, feeling themselves foreigners amid the language of
their country, may turn with some point against their
teachers the reproach of banished Bolingbroke : —

My tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up,
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony \
Within my mouth you have engaoled my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips,
And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a pupil now.

It is our pleasant duty, on the contrary, to thank you
for encouraging us to study the " cunning instrument"
of our native tongue.

Our sense of the benefits which we derived from this
study, and our recollection that the study was at that time
optional, and did not affect more than a small number of the
pupils, lead us to anticipate that when once the English
language and literature become recognized, not as an
optional but as a regular part of our educational course,
the advantages will be so great as to constitute nothing
short of a national benefit.

DEDICATION. V

The present seems to be a critical moment for English
instruction. The subject has excited much attention of late
years : many schools have already taken it up ; others are
on the point of doing so ; it forms an important part of
most Government and other examinations. But there is a
complaint from many teachers that they cannot teach English
for want of text-books and manuals : and, as the study of
English becomes year by year more general, this complaint
makes itself more and more distinctly heard. To meet this
want we have written the following pages. If we had had
more time, we might perhaps have been tempted to aim at
producing a more learned and exhaustive book on the
subject ; but, setting aside want of leisure, we feel that a
practical text-book, and not a learned or exhaustive treatise,
is what is wanted at the present crisis.

We feel sure that you will give a kindly welcome to our
little book, as an attempt, however imperfect, to hand on the
torch which you have handed to us ; we beg you also to
accept it as a token of our sincere gratitude for more than
ordinary kindnesses, and to believe us

Your affectionate pupils,

J. R. SEELEY,
EDWIN A. ABBOTT.

PEEFACE.

This book is not intended to supply the place of an English
Grammar. It presupposes a knowledge of Grammar and of
English idiom in its readers, and does not address itself
to foreigners, but to those who, having already a familiar
knowledge of English, need help to write it with taste and
exactness. Some degree of knowledge is presumed in the
reader ; nevertheless we do not presume that he pos-
sesses so much as to render him incapable of profiting
from lessons. Our object is, if possible, not merely to in-
terest, but to teach ; to write lessons, not essays, — lessons
that may perhaps prove interesting to some who have passed
beyond the routine of school life, but still lessons, in the
strictest sense, adapted for school classes.

Aiming at practical utility, the book deals only with those
difficulties which, in the course of teaching, we have found
to be most common and most serious. For there are many
difficulties, even when grammatical accuracy has been at-
tained, in the way of English persons attempting to write
and speak correctly. First, there is the cramping restriction

Vlll PREFACE.

of an insufficient vocabulary ; not merely a loose and inexact
apprehension of many words that are commonly used, and
a consequent difficulty in using them accurately, but also a
total ignorance of many other words, and an inability to use
them at all ; and these last are, as a rule, the very words
which are absolutely necessary for the comprehension and ex-
pression of any thought that deals with something more than
the most ordinary concrete notions. There is also a very com-
mon inability to appreciate the differences between words that
are at all similar. Lastly, where the pupil has studied Latin,
and trusts too much for his knowledge of English words to
his knowledge of their Latin roots, there is the possibility of
misderiving and misunderstanding a word, owing to igno-
rance of the changes of letters introduced in the process of
derivation ; and, on the other hand, there is the danger of
misunderstanding and pedantically misusing words correctly
derived, from an ignorance of the changes of meaning which
a word almost always experiences in passing from one lan-
guage to another. The result of all this non-understanding
or slovenly half- understanding of words is a habit of slovenly
reading and slovenly writing, which when once acquired is
very hard to shake off.

Then, following on the difficulties attending the use of
words, there are others attending the choice and arrangement
of words. There is the danger of falling into " poetic prose, "
of thinking it necessary to write " steed " or " charger " in-

PKEFACE. IX

stead of " horse," " ire " instead of " anger," and the like ;
and every teacher who has had much experience in looking
over examination papers, will admit that this is a danger to
which beginners are very liable. Again, there is the tempta-
tion to shrink with a senseless fear from using a plain word
twice in the same page, and often from using a plain word at
all. This unmanly dread of simplicity, and of what is called
" tautology," rise gives to a patchwork made up of scraps
of poetic quotations, unmeaning periphrases, and would-be
humorous circumlocutions, — a style of all styles perhaps the
most objectionable and offensive, which may be known and
avoided by the name of Fine Writing. Lastly, there is
the danger of obscurity, a fault which cannot be avoided
without extreme care, owing to the uninflected nature of our
language.

All these difficulties and dangers are quite as real, and
require as much attention, and are fit subjects for practical
teaching in our schools, quite as much as many points
which, at present, receive perhaps an excessive attention in
some of our text-books. To use the right word in the right
place is an accomplishment not less valuable than the know-
ledge of the truth (carefully recorded in most English
Grammars, and often inflicted as a task upon younger pupils)
that the plural of cherub is cherubim, and the feminine of
bull is cow.

To smooth the reader's way through these difficulties is

X PREFACE.

the object of the first three Parts of this book. Difficulties
connected with Vocabulary are considered first. The stu-
dent is introduced, almost at once, to Synonyms, He is
taught how to define a word, with and without the aid of its
synonyms. He is shown how to eliminate from a word
whatever is not essential to its meaning. The processes of
Definition and Elimination are carefully explained : a system
or scheme is laid down which he can exactly follow ; and ex-
amples are subjoined, worked out to illustrate the method
which he is to pursue. A system is also given by which
the reader may enlarge his vocabulary, and furnish himself
easily and naturally with those general or abstract terms
which are often misunderstood and misused, and still more
often not understood and not used at all. Some information
is also given to help the reader to connect words with their
roots, and at the same time to caution him against supposing
that, because he knows the roots of a word, he necessarily
knows the meaning of the word itself. Exercises are inter-
spersed throughout this Part which can be worked out with,
or without, an English Etymological Dictionary,1 as the
nature of the case may require. The exercises have not
been selected at random ; many of them have been subjected
to the practical test of experience, and have been used in
class teaching.

1 An Etymological Dictionary is necessary for pupils studying the First
Part. Chambers's or Ogilvie's will answer the purpose.

PREFACE. XI

The Second Part deals with Diction. It attempts to illus-
trate with some detail the distinction — often ignored by those
who are beginning to write English, and sometimes by others
also — between the Diction of Prose, and that of Poetry. It
endeavours to dissipate that excessive and vulgar dread of
tautology which, together with a fondness for misplaced
pleasantry, gives rise to the vicious style described above.
It gives some practical rules for writing a long sentence
clearly and impressively ; and it also examines the differ-
ence between slang, conversation, and written prose. Both
for translating from foreign languages into English, and for
writing original English composition, these rules have been
used in teaching, and, we venture to think, with encouraging
results.

A Chapter on Simile and Metaphor concludes the subject
of Diction. We have found, in the course of teaching, that
a great deal of confusion in speaking and writing, and still
more in reading and attempting to understand the works of
our classical English authors, arises from the inability to ex-
press the literal meaning conveyed in a Metaphor. The
application of the principle of Proportion to the explanation
of Metaphor has been found to dissipate much of this con-
fusion. The youngest pupils readily learn how to " expand
a Metaphor into its Simile ;" and it is really astonishing
to see how many difficulties that perplex young heads, and
. sometimes old ones too, vanish at once when the key of

Xll PREFACE.

" expansion" is applied. More important still, perhaps, is
the exactness of thought introduced by this method. The
pupil knows that, if he cannot expand a metaphor, he does
not understand it. All teachers will admit that to force a
pupil to see that he does not understand anything is a great
stride of progress. It is difficult to exaggerate the value of a
process which makes it impossible for a pupil to delude
himself into the belief that he understands when he does not
understand.

Metre is the subject of the Third Part. The object of this
Part (as also, in a great measure, of the Chapter just men-
tioned belonging to the Second Part) is to enable the pupil
to read English Poetry with intelligence, interest, and appre-
ciation. To teach any one how to read a verse so as to mark
the metre on the one hand, without on the other hand con-
verting the metrical line into a monotonous doggrel, is not so
easy a task as might be supposed. Many of the rules stated
in this Part have been found of practical utility in teaching
pupils to hit the mean. Kules and illustrations have there-
fore been given, and the different kinds of metre and varieties
of the same metre have been explained at considerable length.

This Chapter may seem to some to enter rather too much
into detail. We desire, however, to urge as an explanation,
that in all probability the study of English metre will rapidly
assume more importance in English schools. At present,
very little is generally taught, and perhaps known, about

PEEFACE. Xlii

this subject. In a recent elaborate edition of the works of
Pope, the skill of that consummate master of the art of
epigrammatic versification is impugned because in one of his
lines he suffers the to receive the metrical accent. When one
of the commonest customs (for it is in no sense a license)
of English poets, — a custom sanctioned by Shakspeare,
Dry den, Milton, Wordsworth, Byron, Shelley, and Tennyson,
— can be censured as a fault, and this in a leading edition of a
leading poet of our literature, it must be evident that much
still remains to be done in teaching English Metre. At pre-
sent this Part may seem too detailed. Probably, some few
years hence, when a knowledge of English Metre has become
more widely diffused, it will seem not detailed enough.

The Fourth Part (like the Chapter on Metaphor) is con-
cerned not more with English than with other languages. It
treats of the different Styles of Composition, the appropriate
subjects for each, and the arrangement of the subject-matter.
We hope that this may be of some interest to the general
reader, as well as of practical utility in the higher classes of
schools. It seems desirable that before pupils begin to write
essays, imaginary dialogues, speeches, and poems, they should
receive some instruction as to the difference of arrangement
in a poem, a speech, a conversation, and an essay.

An Appendix adds a few hints on some Errors in Beason-
ing. This addition may interfere with the symmetry of the .
book ; but if it is found of use, the utility will be ample

XIV PREFACE.

compensation. In reading literature, pupils are continually
meeting instances of false reasoning, which, if passed over
without comment, do harm, and if commented upon, require
some little basis of knowledge in the pupil to enable him
to understand the explanation. Without entering into the
details of formal Logic, we have found it possible to give
pupils some few hints which have appeared to help them.
The hints are so elementary, and so few, that they cannot
possibly delude the youngest reader into imagining that they
are anything more than hints. They may induce him here-
after to study the subject thoroughly in a complete treatise,
when he has leisure and opportunity; but, in any case, a boy
will leave school all the better prepared for the work of life,
whatever that work may be, if he knows the meaning of
induction, and has been cautioned against the error, post hoc,
ergo propter hoc. No lesson, so far as our experience in
teaching goes, interests and stimulates pupils more than
this ; and our experience of debating societies in the higher
forms of schools, forces upon us the conviction that such
lessons are not more interesting than necessary.

Questions on the different paragraphs have been added at
the end of the book, for the purpose of enabling the student
to test his knowledge of the contents, and also to serve as
home lessons to be prepared by pupils in classes.1

1 Some of the passages quoted to illustrate style are intended to be com-
mitted to memory and used as repetition-lessons. — See pp. 177, 178,309
233, etc.

PREFACE. XV

A desire, expressed by some teachers of experience, that
these lessons should be published as soon as possible, has
rather accelerated the publication. Some misprints and other
inaccuracies may possibly be found in the following pages,
in consequence of the short time which has been allowed us for
correcting them. Our thanks are due to several friends who
have kindly assisted us in this task, and who have also aided
us with many valuable and practical suggestions. Among
these we desire to mention Mr. Joseph Payne, whose labours
on Norman French are well known ; Mr. J. S. Philpotts, late
Fellow of New College, Oxford, and one of the Assistant
Masters of Rugby School ; Mr. Edwin Abbott, Head Master
of the Philological School ; Mr. Howard Candler, Mathematical
Master of Uppingham School ; and the Rev. R. H. Quick,
one of the Assistant Masters of Harrow School.

In conclusion, we repeat that we do not wish our book to
be regarded as an exhaustive treatise, or as adapted for the
use of foreigners. It is intended primarily for boys, but, in
the present unsatisfactory state of English education, we
entertain a hope that it may possibly be found not unfit for
some who have passed the age of boyhood ; and in this hope
we have ventured to give it the title of English Lessons for
English People.

SHORT TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PART I.— Vocabulary. page

Chapter I. Words defined by Usage . . 1

Chapter IT. Words defined by Derivation . . .21

PART II.— Diction.

Chapter I. Diction of Poetry . . . . .54

Chapter II. Diction of Prose . . . . .86

Chapter III. Faults in Diction . . . . .102

Chapter IV. Metaphorical Diction .... 126

PART III.— Metre.

Chapter I. Metre in General ..... 143
Chapter II. Disyllabic Metre . . . . .190

Chapter III. Trisyllabic Metre . . . . .210

PART IV.

Hints on Selection and Arrangement .... 216

APPENDIX.

Hints on some Errors in Reasoning .... 255

Table of Consonants .... . *JS4

Questions and References to Exercises .... 285

CONTENTS.

FIEST PART.
CHAPTER I.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

PARAGRAPH

The process of Definition explained __-_-_ 1 — 6

Synonyms ----------- 7, 8

Anonyms -----------9, 10

General, or abstract, Terms -------- 11

Classification of Words -------- 12

CHAPTER II.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

The use of Derivation --------- 13

The danger of Pedantry -------- 14

Hybrids ----------- 15

Latin Prefixes ---------- 16

Greek Prefixes ---------- 17

Teutonic Prefixes --------- 18

Noun Affixes ---------- 19

Adjective Affixes --------- 20

Verbal Affixes ---------- 21

Derivation, insufficient by itself -------22

Latin Roots „-_____--_ 23

Greek Roots ---------- 24

Grimm's Law ---------- 25

XV111 CONTENTS.

PARAGRAPH

Classification of Consonants ------- 26

Grimm's Law exemplified -------- 27

Other Changes of Consonants ------- 28

Contraction and Extension of Words - - - - - - 29, 30

Liquid Changes and Assimilation of Vowels - - - - 31, 32

Changes of Meaning in Derivation ------ 33

The Law of Change --------- 34

The Law of Contraction -------- 35

The Law of Metaphor- -------- 36

The Law of Extension --------- 37

The Law of Deterioration -------- 38

The Law of Amelioration -------- 39

SECOND PART.
CHAPTER I.

POETIC DICTION.

Poetic Diction ---------- 40

,, „ is Archaic -------- 41

„ „ is Picturesque ------- 42

„ „ uses Epithets for Things - 4'2a

M „ uses Ornamental Epithets ----- 4-2 h

m9 „ uses Essential Epithets ------ 42c

, „ is averse to lengthiness - - -43a, 436

„ is euphonious _______ 43^

,, Characteristics of, exaggerated - 44

9 „ different styles of------- 45

The Elevated Style (Paradise Lost) ------ 46

Grotesqueness, Bombast - - - - - - - - 47, 48

Tameness, Bathos --------- 4;)

Misapplication of Elevated Style (Pope's Odyssey) - 50

The Graceful Style (Tennyson) ------- 51

Pedantry, Conventionalism -------- 59

Deficiency of Grace --------- 53

The Forcible Style (Shakspeare) ------- r>4

Coarseness ----------- 55

The want of Force --------- 56

CONTENTS. XIX

PARAGRAPH

The Simple Style --------- 57

Childishness ----- ----- - 58

CHAPTER II.

THE DICTION OF PROSE.

The Diction of Prose 59

Impassioned Prose -------- 60

Exceptional Poetic Prose -------- 61

Speech the Guide to Prose -------- 62

Difference between Speech and Prose ------ 63

Writing more exact than Speech ------ 64

Writing less brief than Speech ------- 65

Writing less varied in Construction than Speech - - - - 66

CHAPTER III.

FAULTS IN DICTION AND THEIR REMEDIES.

Slang - - - 67

Technical Slang ---68

Fine Writing ---------- 69

Patch-work 70

The Antidote for Tautology 71

Obscurity, from mis-arrangement -------72

Obscurity, from ambiguous words -------73

The Antidote for Obscurity -•- - - -- - - 74

The Rhetorical Period ---------75

CHAPTER IY.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

A Simile 76,77

Compression of Simile into Metaphor - - - - - 78, 79

Implied Metaphor, the basis of Language ----- 80

Metaphor expounded ---------81

Personification, cannot be expounded ----- 82—84

Personification analysed -- - - - - - -85

XX CONTENTS.

PARAGRAPH

Personal Metaphor, natural and convenient ----- 86

Pseudo-Metaphors and Hyperbole -------87

Confusions of Similarity -------- 88

Good and bad Metaphors -------- 89

,. ,, Personifications ------- 90

THIRD PART.
CHAPTER I.

METRE.

Rhythm, when appropriate ------- -91

Metre, when appropriate --------gg

Prose and Poetry in Shakspeare -------93

Didactic Poetry ----------94

Language, Metrical and Unmetrical ------ 95

Metre, different kinds of --------96

Names of Feet ---------- 97

Accent ------------98

Emphasis ----------- 90

Accent favours Disyllabic Metre ------- 100

Accent in Trisyllables and Monosyllables - - - - - 101

Pope's Use of the Unemphatic Accent ------ 103

Dubious Monosyllabic Accent - - - - - - -109

The Third Accent often Unemphatic in Pope - - - - 104

The Purpose of Unemphatic Accents __---- 105

Emphatic Accents - - - - - -- - - -106

The Number of Unaccented Syllables in each Foot - - - - 107

The Prevalent Foot --------- 108

Rhyme ------------109

Faults in Rhyming --------- no

Double Rhyme ---------- HJ

Quantity ----------- no

Effect of Quantity, exaggerated - - - - - -113

Slurred Syllables ----------114

Pause in Blank Verse --------- 115

Pause in Pope - - - - - - - - - -116

Pause in Dryden ---------- 117

CONTENTS. XXI

PARAGRAPH

Compensation of Pauses --------- 118

Introductory Pause - - - - - - - - -119

The Pause in Descriptive Poetry ------- 120

The Pause at the end of the Line ------- 121

Alliteration ----- 122

Concealed Alliteration --------- 123

Early English Alliterative Poetry ------- 124

Influence of Early English Poetry - - - - - -125

Alliteration in Elizabethan Authors ------ 126

Milton's Alliteration - - - - 127

Vowel Alliteration ---------- 128

Influence of Early English Poetry on the Initial Foot - 129

CHAPTER II.

DISYLLABIC METRE.

Lines with One Accent --------- 130

„ „ Two Accents --------- 131

„ , , Three Accents and Six Accents (Alexandrine) - - - 132

Iambic with four Accents -------- 133

Trochaic with Four Accents - - - - - - - -134

Iambic with Five Accents -------- 135

Trisyllabic Variation in 136

Elision in 137

Trochaic Variation in - 138

with Ehyme ------ 139

in Rhyming Narrative - 140

Trochaic with Five Accents -------- 141

Spenserian Stanza, and Sonnet ------- 142

CHAPTER III.

TRISYLLABIC METRE.

Trisyllabic Metre, Early Use of -------143

„ „ Effect of - - - - - - - - 144

„ „ Scansion of __"'._•_-.- 145

Anapaest with Two Accents ---I---- 146

,, „ Three Accents -------- 147

• ,, „ Four Accents --------- 148

XX11 CONTENTS.

PARAGRAPH

Disyllabic and Trisyllabic Metre, Confusion between - 149

Classical Metres ---..----- 150

FOURTH PART.

HINTS ON SELECTION AND ARRANGEMENT.

Difference between Scientific and Non-Scientific Composition - - 151

Non-scientific Composition, subdivision of - - - - - 152

Selection in Conversation - - - - - - - -153

Selection in Oratory - - - - - - - - -154

Selection in Didactic Composition - - - - - - -155

Selection in Imaginative Literature - - - - - - -156

Limit of Fiction ---------- 157

Imaginative Literature dealing with History - - - - - 158

Unity of Feeling ---------- 159

Selection in Dramatic Poetry - - - - - - -ICO

Arrangement in Argument - - ~ - - - - -161

Argument in Oratory - - - - - - - - -162

Argument in Didactic Composition - - - - - - -163

Arrangement in Oratorical Narration - - - - - -164

Arrangement in Didactic Narration - - - - - - -165

Arrangement in Imaginative Narration - - - - - -166

Construction of a Plot - - - - - - - - -167

Different kinds of Interest - - - - - - - -168

Incidents interesting in themselves - - - - - - -169

Incidents that illustrate Character - - - - - - -170

Idyllic Incidents - - - - - - - - - -171

Epic Incidents - - - - - - - - - -172

APPENDIX.

HINTS ON SOME ERRORS IN REASONING.

Use of Logic in Literature - - - - - - - -173

Sources of Knowledge :

I. Personal Observation - - - - - -174

II. Induction ____---- 175

III. Deduction -------- 176

CONTENTS. XX111

PARAGRAPH

Sources of Error :

I. Prejudice --__-___ J77
II. Mai- Observation ------- 173

III. False Induction - - 179

IV. Confusion - - 180
V. False Ratiocination - - - - - - -181

Personal Observation and Prejudice --__-_ 182

Induction by Enumeration - - - - - - - -183

Induction always incomplete - - - - - - -184

Induction with Experiment - - - - - - -185

Induction without Experiment - - - - - - -186

Partial Induction -----____ 137

Analogy meaning Likeness - - - - - - - -188

,, „ Similarity of Relations ------ 189

The Argument from Analogy - - - - - - - -190

Deduction, Technical Terms of - - - - - - -191

A Syllogism implies Inclusion - - - - - - -192

Illustration of the Inclusion of the Syllogism ----- 193

Ambiguous Case ------____ 194

Propositions of Identity -----____ 295

Ambiguity of Predicate - - - - - - _ -196

Conversion of Propositions - - - - - - _ -197

Denial of the Antecedent -----___ igg

The Error of the Suppressed Premise ---___ 199

The Error of the Variable Middle ______ £00

The Error of the Forgotten Condition --____ 201

Ignoratio Elenchi - ---_____ 202

Begging the Question ; Reasoning in a Circle - 203

Definitions ---------- 204

Definition and Description -------- 205

Essentials and Accidents -' - - - - _ _ 206

Mathematical Certainty -------- 207

Probable Propositions ------__._ £08

PAGE

Table of Consonants -----_■--_ 283

Questions and References to Exercise ------ 284

The following is a scheme showing the manner in which
the book is intended to be used as a text-book in the
different classes of a school. Class A represents a class
that has passed through a course of English Grammar,
begins the study of Latin, and understands Proportion.

Class. Paragraphs

13—39; 76—83; 95—99;* 138; 173—
181.

'9— 39; 72—90; 95— 99;* 138; 173—
181.

' 9—58 ; 67—101 ; * 133—138 ; 1 73—
181.

_ (begins Geometry f ^^ i ^~101 5 * H2-122 ; 133-138 ;
D and Latin Prosody) | 15q . 173_187.

F (begins Greek)

( Omits 102— 104; 108; 124—128; 130—
\ 132; 141—149; and 151—172.

( Omits 124—128; 130, 131; 143—149;
( and 151—172.

G Omits 151—172.

H Omits none.

Some of the longer examples in the Chapter on the Diction
of Poetry, and on pages 174, 177, 178, 188, 208, 209, etc.,
should be committed to memory.

* The attention of the Pupils should also be directed from the first to
the substance of Paragraphs 10G, 109, 122, the first half of 129, 188, and
173—181.

ENGLISH LESSONS.

FIEST PAET.

CHAPTER I.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

1, The Method of Induction, — The natural way to
discover the meaning of a word in our native language is
the method of induction.1 We hear a word, e.g., oppression,
repeated, in a certain context, in such a way as to give us,
as we think, some approximate notion of its meaning, say,
violence : then we hear it again in different context, and per-
ceive that it cannot mean exactly violence; it seems to mean
injustice : but again some further mention of the word makes
it evident that, though oppression is always unjust, yet it is
not identical with injustice. If we live in society where the
word is often and correctly used, or if we read the works of
accurate authors, we shall in course of time reject incorrect
notions of the word, and arrive at its exact meaning. This
process of rejection may be technically called elimination.
The process by which, by introducing the different instances
in which a word occurs, we arrive at the meaning which
the word has in every instance, is called " The Method of

Induction.'"

1 See paragraph 175.

WOKDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

2. Elimination and Definition.— Suppose the square
Al Bj Cx Di to represent our first notion of a word. When
we reject or eliminate some part of this notion as being in-
accurate, we contract our square ; we draw the boundaries
more closely ; in other words, we define.

This process of elimination is unconsciously used in the
discovery of the meaning of the simplest word in our native
language. The following example should be studied and
reproduced with the diagram.

Qualities belonging to sugar, but not to salt.

SWEETNESS.

Qualities belonging to sugar and salt, but
not to snow.

EDIBILITY.

Qualities belonging to sugar, salt, and
snow, but not to paper.

SOLUBILITY.

Qualities common
to sugar, salt, snow,
and paper. These
include

WHITENESS.

WOKDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 3

How does a child discover what is meant by white ?

He perhaps hears that sugar is white, and he hence infers
that white has something to do with sugar. Let the square
Ai Bx Ci T>i represent this quality of sugar. What particular
quality of sugar does white represent ? Perhaps ' sweet.' But
presently he hears that " salt is white" Then .white can have
nothing to do with ' sweetness,' since salt is not ' sweet.' Hence
the child eliminates 'sweetness,' which is peculiar to sugar, and
narrows the square to A2 B2 C2 D2. " Whiteness is something
common to sugar and salt." What is this common quality ?
Both sugar and salt are good to eat. Perhaps then white
means ' good to eat.' But he finds snow called white, and
snow is not ' good to eat.' Hence he eliminates the quality of
' edibility,' and narrows the square a second time to A3 B3 C3
D3, which represents qualities common to sugar, salt, and snow.
Sugar, salt, and snow all melt in water. Perhaps then white
means 'able to melt.' But, lastly, paper is called white, and
paper cannot melt. The last elimination of ' solubility ' is
therefore made, and the square is narrowed to A4 B4 C4 D4,
which represents qualities common to sugar, salt, snow, and
paper. These qualities (those at least that are obvious to a
child) are so few that in all probability the child would now
hit upon the most obvious of them, whiteness.

This process of induction and elimination, though it draws
the boundaries closer round the thing to be defined, does
not completely define it in the case above mentioned and in
many other cases. A4B4C4D4 includes whiteness, but it also
includes visibility, tangibility, and other qualities common to
sugar, salt, snow, and paper. It would have been a final
definition if we had said, "whiteness is the colour of snow,''
for that definition would not have included anything beside
whiteness.

4 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

A definition is a description separating the thing
defined from all other things.

3. How can we attain to a final definition ?— When
the thing to be denned belongs to a certain class, we can
mention the class, and then the qualities which distinguish
it from other things in the same class. This will be a final
definition, and may be illustrated by a diagram. Whiteness

belongs to the class of colours. Draw CB to represent
the class colour. Whiteness is somewhere or other in C R.
Now draw another line S W T representing salt and inter-
secting C R in W. The point W is definitely fixed by the
intersection of the two lines, and it represents the colour of
salt or whiteness.

Caution : A definition, if it be not based upon usage, may be
very useless even though it be correct. Thus, " man is a
cooking animal" (even supposing this to be a correct and
final definition), is by no means so useful a definition as
one based upon the intellect or moral sense, or upon some
other faculty supposed to be peculiar to man. Such
definitions are liable to be not only useless, but incorrect.
Hence all the definitions of children, not being based upon
sufficient knowledge, and not being subjected sufficiently to

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 5

the eliminating test, are imperfect. Thus a child might
define a cat as " a striped quadruped," which would include
the zebra. In much the same way Plato is said to have
defined man as " a featherless biped," a definition which
was at once ridiculed by Diogenes, who exhibited a plucked
cock to the philosopher's disciples.

4. Necessity of Elimination before Definition —

Since a definition is final, and elimination a long and often
imperfect process, it may be asked, " Why eliminate ? " The
answer is, in order to define. Definition is simple when we
know the class and the defining peculiarities of the thing to
be defined. But how if we do not know them ? Take as
an example the definition of the word oppression. Suppose
we say " since oppression involves some kind of pain to the
sufferer, pain shall; be selected as the class ; and, since it is
always the strong who oppress the weak, that shall be
selected as the distinguishing peculiarity. " We therefore
define oppression as " pain inflicted by the strong on the
weak.''1 It will soon be evident that this definition will not
bear the test of usage. " The father oppressed his son for
telling a falsehood" would be an absurd expression, and
would show that our definition is faulty. If we had used
the test of this and a few other sentences before defining,
we should have escaped this error. We should have seen
that punished not oppressed was the correct word in the above
sentence, and we should have eliminated "punishment."

5. Sentences of Elimination. — Having first made
some rough kind of approximation to the meaning of the
word to be defined, we can construct sentences containing

6 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

the word, and from these sentences our knowledge of
English idiom will at once enable us to determine whether
the approximate meaning requires to be further limited, and
in what direction. These sentences may be called sentences
of elimination, because they help us to eliminate from the
first rough approximate definition whatever is not essential
to the word.

6. Approximation.— Care should be taken that the
approximate definition should be too broad rather than too
narrow. For instance, if we are going to define oppression,
we must not take violence as an approximation, for all oppres-
sion is not violence ; some conduct is oppressive, and yet not
violent ; violence is therefore too narrow. But all oppression
is injustice, and injustice will therefore serve as a first ap-
proximation. Any word that can stand as a predicate in a
sentence where the word to be defined, preceded by " all,"
e.g., "all oppression,'7 is the subject, will serve as a first ap-
proximation.

Now let us take a few sentences describing unjust conduct,
and let us use the word oppress. (1.) " The tenant oppressed
his landlord by defrauding him of his rent." We feel that
this is incorrect, for oppression is exerted by a superior on
an inferior, or by the strong on the weak. (2.) " The high-
wayman oppressed the traveller by taking his purse." This
is incorrect, because oppression denotes conduct more public
and self-reliant than the violence of a robber, who may at
any time be caught and hung. (8.) " The tyrant oppn
one of his body-guard by giving him a blow." This is not
correct, for oppression implies systematic injustice, not a
single isolated action. Hence we eliminate from the broad
approximation of injustice all injustice that is not (1) practised

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 7

by the strong against the weak ; (2) public and self-reliant ;
(3) systematic. The residuum, i.e., " injustice more or less
open and systematic, practised by the strong against the
weak," is a fair definition of oppression. Here, as very
often, more than two new notions are necessary for the
purpose of defining.

7. Synonyms. — One word can seldom be explained
(otherwise than very roughly) by any other single word in
the same language. Even if at first two words are identical
in meaning, as, perhaps, pig and pork originally were, there
is a constant tendency (34) to differentiate their meanings.

It is true that the English language, more than any
other, is open to the charge of such superfluity. There
is perhaps little difference between begin and commence,
answer and reply, end and finish. The former in each
pair of words is Teutonic, the latter of Latin origin, and
the one is very nearly an exact translation of the other.
But even here, though the meaning is nearly the same,
the use of the words is not the same. Commence requires
the verbal noun after it, whereas begin can take the infini-
tive instead. " They began to dance," but " they commenced
dancing." Moreover begin is far more colloquial than com-
mence. End is used with impersonal subjects, " the day has
ended," not " finished," but " I have finished." Again, finish
refers more to the result produced. "I have now ended
(not so well finished) forty years of toil," but "I hav e finished
(not ended) the book." Lastly, answer is more colloquial, and
may sometimes imply more of retort than reply.

So few then are the exceptions, that we may lay it down
as a rule that no English word can be perfectly explained by
any other single word. If synonyms be used to mean words

8 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

of similar meaning, then they have an existence ; but if they
mean words of precisely the same meaning, then synonyms
rarely or never occur.

Def. Synonyms are words that have not the same,
but similar, meanings.

8. The use of Synonyms in defining, — In eliciting
the exact meaning of a word we are naturally brought into
contact with synonyms. It is by eliminating synonyms that
we draw nearer to the meaning of the word to be defined.
Thus we draw nearer to the meaning of oppression by saying
it is not the same as violence, or cruelty, or Injustice. Each
of these eliminations teaches us something, whereas we
should learn nothing from saying "oppression is not the
same as fame." One way then of preparing ourselves for
the task of defining a word is to jot down a group of
synonymous words. Thus, if we have to define pride, set
down vanity, conceit, arrogance, assurance, presumption,
haughtiness, and insolence. Then ascertain (1) what is the
common quality pervading all these synonyms ; (2) what are
the special qualities in which pride differs from each of
its synonyms. Thus (1) the common quality is "an
exaggerated sense of one's own worth as compared with
the worth of others." But (2) the proud man is more in-
different to the opinion of others than the vain man ; he has
a more solid foundation of merit than the conceited man ; the
proud man will wait to be honoured, and will seldom pre-
sume upon his own merits, or upon the yielding nature of
others ; he is not so selfishly exacting as the arrogant man,
not so open in betraying his defect as the haughty man, not
so brutally unfeeling as the insolent man : he is far too
dignified to be accused of assurance.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 9

By this process we clear up the meaning not only of the
word to be defined, but also of all the words in the synony-
mous group, and this with a brevity and an exactness which
would be impossible if we took each word separately. The
following words are intended to be explained and defined in
this way by reference to their synonyms. Sentences are
to be constructed containing the word to be defined. Some
of these sentences will be correct, and may be called defining
sentences ; others will be incorrect (requiring some synonym,
and not the word to be defined), and may be called elimina-
ting sentences.

GROUP OF SYNONYMS.

WORD TO BE DEFINED.

(1) Presumptuous, (2) Insolent, (3) Haughty,
(4) Vain.

Proud.

Defining Sentences.

(1) He has reason to be proud of

his discoveries, his son, etc.

(2) He was too proud to beg.

Eliminating Sentences.— (1) He was [ 1 ] enough to
ask for the chief command. (Eliminates the dis-
position to obtrude ones claims.)

(2) The brutal | 2 ] of the drunken and exacting

soldiery alienated the natives. (Eliminates brutal
contempt for the rights of others.)

(3) The general, when requested to lay down his arms,

[ 3 ly] replied, " Come and take them." (Elimi-
nates contemptuous bearing.)

(4) The poet's [ 4 ] induced him to take every oppor-

tunity of reciting his works. (Eliminates desire for
the admiration of others.)

10 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

Summary. — (1) Pride is a high opinion of the merits of
one's self, or something connected with one's self. (2) It is
not pushing like presumption, not brutal like insolence, not
openly contemptuous like haughtiness, not influenced by the
desire of admiration like vanity.

GROUP OF SYNONYMS.

WORD TO BE DEFINED.

(1) Power, (2) Strength, (3) Force.

Authority.

Defining Sentences.

(1) Authority is respected by all
who respect the laws.

(3) I am supported by the best au-
thorities in this statement.

Eliminating Sentences. — (1) It is out of my [ 1 ] to
oblige you. (Eliminates power in the sense of mere
ability.)

(2) I give you full [ 1 ] to release him. (Here authority

could be used, and the elimination fails, showing
that power sometimes includes authority.)

(3) A horse has the [ 2 ] of seven men. (Eliminates

muscular power.)

(4) The blow descended with [ 3 ]. (Eliminates dyna-

mic power.)

(5) I yielded to [ 3 ], not to argument. (Eliminates

violence.)

Summary. — (1) Authority is some kind of power. It
is power resting upon right, and so, in a secondary sense, it
is the weight rightfully attaching to a writer recognized as
judicious. (2) It is not power in the sense of ability, not
mere muscular power, not dynamic power, not power founded
on violence.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 11

GROUP OF SYNONYMS.

WORD TO BE DEFINED.

(1) Nation, (2) People, (3) Race, (4) Populace,
(5; Population, (6) Family.

Tribe.

Defining Sentences.-,

(1) The nation of Israel was com-

posed of twelve tribes.

(2) The Bedouin, Red Indian,

finny tribes, etc.

(3) I hate the whole tribe of para-

sites.

(2)

Eliminating Sentences. — (1) The three great [ 1 ] of
the ancient world represent respectively theology,
philosophy, and law. (Eliminates magnitude and or-
ganization.)
'This news was soon brought to the [ 2 ] on the
shore. (Eliminates people who are merely connected
by being in the same place at a given moment.)
The [ 2 J of England ought to be proud of their
national history. (Eliminates people merely inhabit-
ing the same territory.)

(3) The English [ 2 ] is composed of several distinct

[ 3 ]. (Eliminates people connected by relation-
ship, but not living together isolated from others.)

(4) The clamour of the infuriated [ 4 ] drowned the

voice of the more respectable part of the nation.
(Eliminates people considered contemptuously.)

(5) The [ 5 ] of London is about three millions and a

quarter. (Eliminates people considered numerically.)

(6) The [ 6 ] is the most natural combination of indi-
viduals . (Eliminates people having the same father and mother. )

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

Summary.— (1) A tribe is a number of people (seconda-
rily, of animals) connected together. (2) The connection of
a tribe is not on so vast a scale, nor so complicated, as that
of a nation ; it is not a connection of mere place ; not of
mere relationship, without connection of place ; a tribe is not
people considered contemptuously ; not people considered nu-
merically; not people living together and having the same
father or mother. The connection is a common habitation and
common ancestry, and metaphorically a " family likeness."

The following words can be defined as above :

WOKD TO BE
GKOUP OF SYNONYMS. DEFINED.

Total, whole, entire Complete.

Bravery, courage, gallantry Fortitude.

Aware Conscious.

Un-natural, non-natural Super-natural.

Religious, holy Pious.

Obvious, clear Evident.

Customary, fashionable Conventional.

Intelligent, clever, sensible Wise.

Truthfulness, accuracy, correctness Veracity.

Imagination Fancy.

Reason, intellect Understanding.

Comprehend, understand Apprehend.

Consciousness, (a) sense (of) Perception.

Anger, vexation, annoyance, wrath Resentment.

Bold, stout-hearted, courageous Brave.

Gentle, tender, kind Mild.

Shy, meek, retiring, bashful Humble.

Wisdom, learning, acquaintance Knowledge.

Aid, help Assist.

Pardon, pass over Forgive.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

GROUP OF SYNONYMS.

Description, explanation
Notorious, illustrious, renowned, well-
known, notable
Agreement, compact
Useful, advantageous
Adoration, homage
Thoughtful, far-sighted
Statesman

Superfluous, needless
Harmless, innocuous
Examine, inquire into
Distinguish

Discover, reveal, uncover
Just

Temperance

Crime, fault, vice, immorality
Novel, independent
Influence
Autocrat, despot
Repentance
Hasty, premature
Occurrence, event
Affectionate

Pain, grief, sorrow, agony
Adversity, calamity, misery
Plan, project, step
Object
Scoff-
Wit

Frank, naive
Lampoon
Jocose, funny, ludicrous

WORD TO BE
DEFINED.

Definition.
Famous.

Convention

Expedient.

Worship.

Prudent.

Politician.

Unnecessary.

Innocent.

Investigate.

Discriminate.

Invent

Virtuous.

Self-control.

Sin.

Original.

Ascendency.

Monarch.

Remorse.

Precipitate.

Circumstance.

Loving.

Anguish.

Tribulation.

Measure.

Purpose.

Sneer.

Humour.

Ingenuous.

Satire.

Ridiculous.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

9. Anonyms. — In defining words, and distinguishing
between different shades of the same meaning, we some-
times stumble upon a notion that is not expressed by any
single English word. Such notions have no names, and may
therefore be called anonyms.

10. How to find Anonyms. — Differences of meaning
often spring from differences of degree in the same quality.
A good many qualities, such as bravery, humility, may be
treated as being means between extremes of excess or defect.
Too much bravery may be called rashness, the ' extreme of
excess ; ' too little may be called cowardice, the ' extreme of
defect.' And so of humility.

EXCESS.

MEAN.

DEFECT.

Rashness.
Servility.

Bravery.
Humility.

Cowardice.

Pride, or

Haughtiness.

It will be good practice to arrange a number of words in
this way. But we shall soon find that among these words
there are some which cannot be arranged in complete triplets.
One or more of the three terms cannot be inserted, not
having any name. Thus, virtuous anger against ill- doing,
which we call resentment, may on the side of excess become
relentlessness, but we have no name to express the defect.

EXCESS.

MEAN.

DEFECT.

Relentlessness.

Presentment.

Anonym.

WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

Sometimes we may have one of the extremes given us in
order to determine the corresponding extreme and the mean.
Thus, if we have given us fickleness, reserve, and ambition:

EXCESS. MEAN.

DEFECT.

Fickleness.
Loquacity.
Ambition.

Versatility .

Frankness.

Anonym,1

(proper ambition).

Obstinacy.
Reserve.
Anonym,
(unambitious).

"Where we can find no names for the extreme or mean, we
can sometimes fill up the vacancy with some foreign word.
But even where we cannot do this, it is useful as well as
interesting to note what qualities (very often faults or
virtues) have not been recognized by the national language
as sufficiently common or important to deserve names.

It may be also noticed that language is deficient in those
terms which express the mean or average. The extremes
strike us, and therefore gain priority in naming. Thus we
have no one ward to denote the mean between swift and
slow, big and little, clever and dull, deep and shallow. Hence
the word denoting excess is generally used to denote the
average. Thus the word magnitude is used for size, and even
qualified by " smallest" in —

This pendent world in bigness 2 as a star
Of smallest magnitude close by the moon.

Milton, P. Z.,n. 1053.

1 Sometimes, emulation.

2 Words ending in -ness are rarely used in this sense to denote an
average. We say speed, not swiftness ; magnitude, not greatness or big-
ness ; ability, not cleverness ; depth, not deepness.

16 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

Exercises.

(1) Give the extremes of : patient, just, industrious, digni-
fied, lively, ornate, peaceable, sober, simplicity, faithful, gentle,
natural (applied to style), forcible (applied to style), cheerful,
conscientious, tasteful, judicious, self-respect, straightforward,
meek.

(2) Give the other extreme, and the mean of : sly, meddle-
some, impetuous, covetous, pedantic, mean, inquisitive, parsi-
monious, coarse, cruel, selfish, credulous, reserved, avarice,
suspicious, passionate, childish, impudent, quarrelsome, hypo-
crisy.

11. Generalizing. — To increase one's vocabulary does
not always imply increasing the number of one's notions.
The technical words of a railway engineer — for example, such
as sleeper, shunt, etc. — may express objects or actions that we
have often previously noticed. Similarly, to be able to dis-
tinguish between a flock of sheep or birds, a herd of oxen or
swine, a covey of partridges, and a swarm of flies, need not
be intellectually improving. But to learn the meanings and
uses of more general words, especially those that represent
the operations of the mind, is often accompanied by another
kind of learning : we gain new notions at the same time
with the new words. Thus we are all in the habit of using
the words sight, hearing, taste, etc., denoting the several
faculties of sense particularly, but not many use the
general word sensation, and for want of this word many
do not grasp the notion. The same may be said of such
words as substance, incorporeal, art, science, culture, litera-
ture, politics, government. Of these words many persons
neve i' succeed in grasping the meaning.

Instead of these general or abstract terms, they take some

f 4

WOEDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 17

particular or concrete term that is included in the general
term, and they substitute this imperfect meaning for the
reality. Thus, many, whenever they use the word science,
think of some one of those sciences which are called
"natural," associating the word with "chemistry" or
" botany," and they are consequently quite unprepared for
such an expression as " the science of philology or psycho-
log}7." It will therefore be a valuable exercise to perform
the reverse process to that which we have been describing
above, and to generalize as well as to define. In generalizing,
we take away (abstract) that which is peculiar to the in-
dividual, and leave that which is common to the class (genus),
or general. Thus motion round our own planet is peculiar
to the moon. Abstract that, and what remains is motion
round any planet, which gives us the generic term "satel-
lite," including Saturn's moons as well as ours.

Examples.— Moon is included in (1) satellites : satellites
in (2) planets : planets in (3) heavenly bodies. Weight (1)
the attraction of the earth; (2) the attraction of every particle
of matter by every other ; (3) laws of nature. A circle is
included in (1) conic sections; (2) curves; (3) figures; (4)
lines. Corn, (1) vegetable; (2) product. Sword, (1) weapon;
(2) instrument. County-court, (1) judicature ; (2) institution.
Policeman, (1) executive ; (2) government. A shilling,
(1) money ; (2) currency.

Another kind of generalizing consists in giving a name to
some quality common to two or three objects. Thus " the
quality of giving light" is common to a lamp and the sun.
We might try to express it by bright. But a looking-glass is
bright, and yet does not give light of its own, like the sun.
We therefore require another word. We might invent " light-

18 WORDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

bearing," but the English language generally prefers to ex-
press such compound words in Latin or Greek, and so we
say " luminiferous." In the same way, " that which con-
cerns the mind " is expressed by the Latin mental ; " that
which pertains to the material objects of nature " is ex-
pressed by the Greek physical ; the work which anything
animate or inanimate is fitted to perform is called function,
and so on.

Exercises.— Some of these words are so important tha1
it will be a valuable exercise to explain them for their own
sakes ; and as they are not words in common use, reference
to a dictionary may be allowed. (1) Explain, giving in each
case a sentence containing the word :

Propensity, provisional, observation, theory, anticipation,
realize, generalize, induction, abstraction, analysis, synthesis,
deduction, categories, essentials, accidents, reaction, organi-
zation, modification, periodical, maximum, minimum, resi-
duum, definite, predicate, parallelism, social, tendency, voli-
tion, empirical, abstract, concrete, eclectic, esoteric, aesthetic,
individuality, identity, ethics, metaphysics.

(2) Give names to express " occurring exactly at the same
time," " living about the same time," " liability to combus-
tion," " the power of lasting," " able to be understood,"
" the power of not being pierced," "a centre about which
additional matter may be collected," " the recurring path of
a planet," " in the act of recovering from illness."

12. Classification of Words.— The method last men-
tioned suggests a very useful exercise. Take some general
notion, such as time, space, action, quantity, boundary, motion,
thought, speech, mind, body, substance. Each of these will
have a great number of dependent notions, which can be

WOKDS DEFINED BY USAGE. 19

well learned by taking them in groups that show the neces-
sity of each word, and its connection with the rest of the
group. Take time, for example. We want words to apply
to occurrences that happen at the same time (simultaneous),
to those that happen in the same period (contemporary),
that which is only for a time (temporary), only for a short
time (momentary), for all time (eternal), too soon (pre-
mature), at the right time (seasonable), very long ago
(ancient), the present as compared with antiquity (modern),
the time between antiquity and modern times (mediaeval).

Next take motion. That which causes motion (force),
motion forward (progress), backward (retrogression), upward
(elevation), downward (depression), step by step (gradation),
the rate of motion (velocity), increased motion (acceleration),
diminished (retardation), the tendency of anything to cause
motion in another thing towards itself (attraction), the
sudden communication of motion (impulse), motion asunder
(disjunction), motion resulting in impact (collision), hasty
and inconsiderate motion (precipitation), the tendency to
move downwards (gravitation), motion increasing the space
occupied (extension), motion diminishing it (compression,
contraction), motion recovering the original bulk (elasticity),
the neutralization of each other caused by opposite tendencies
to motion (equilibrium), the motion resulting from a number
of tendencies to motion in different directions (resultant),
liability or non-liability to motion (mobility, immobility),
harmonious motion (rhythm), motion from different quarters
to a single point (concentration), property of not moving of
itself (inertia), the science of motion (dynamics), the science
relating to the motion of water (hydro -dynamics).

A few general rules may be given for the collection of a
group. After the central word, for example, think, has been

20 WOEDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

mentioned, we may ask the questions How, when, and where
does the thing denoted principally manifest itself ? We may
think rapidly (quick- thoughted), beforehand (fore-thought),
out of sight of an object before seen (remember, recall).
Then, what is its object or objects ? We can think of our
own deeds, thoughts, etc. (consciousness), of one thing at a
time (concentration). Of course different questions will be
suitable to different notions. Treating of a science, we
should above all ask, About what ? What are the different
subjects which have divided science into different depart-
ments ? An emotion, e.g., anger, would on the other hand
suggest, Caused by what motive ? And the next question
would be, In what degree ? Subjoined are two examples.

(1) Think.

Hoiv ? Deeply (meditate, muse, reflect), sadly (brood, mope),
quickly (quick-thoughted), slowly (dull), rightly (sensible),
logically (reasonable), with tact (judicious).

Wlien? . Beforehand (fore-thought, anticipation), too late
(after-thought, memory), as a preparation for action (plan, pro-
ject), at the right moment (presence of mind).

Where? Out of sight of the object thought of (imagine,
remember), with others (consult).

Of ivhat ? Of one's own deeds or thoughts (consciousness),
of one thing at a time (concentration), of trifles (frivolity), of
nothing but the immediate present (imprudence, improvidence),
of two or more objects set side by side (compare, contrast,
ponder, estimate, judge, doubt, perplexity), of one proposition
as necessarily resulting from others (deduce, induction, infer,
reason, conclude, logic).

Faculty of thinking. Thought, reason, intellect, under-
standing.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 21

(2) Anger.

Excited by what? By the sense of personal wrong and the
desire of revenge (vindictiveness), by the sense of wrong without
thought of self (resentment), by some slight fault (vexation),
by inconvenience or disappointment (annoyance).

When ? Lasting (displeasure), too long (relentless, sulky,
unforgiving), too soon (choleric, irascible, passionate, irritable).

To what degree ? Too much (fury, rage, passion), too little
(impassible, indulgent, fond, tame, spiritless).

CHAPTER II.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

13. The method of explaining a word by deduc-
tion.— When we have ascertained the meaning of a word by
the method of induction, it is sometimes of use to confirm or
narrow still further our definition by another method, — the
method of deduction.1 Many of our least familiar words are
derived directly from Latin and Greek words ; others from
Latin through the French. By taking such compound Eng-
lish words to pieces, and translating their foreign roots into
English, we can often deduce the exact meaning of the com-
pound word. Thus, by knowing that ge is Greek for " earth,"
and that -logy often means " science," we may see that " geo-
logy " means " science of the earth." But this is not always
a safe process, as will be shown in the next paragraph.

1 See paragraph 176.

22 WOKDS DEFINED BY USAGE.

14. The danger of Pedantry. — Some technical terms,
it is true, especially those derived from Greek, such as
esoteric, eclectic, hyperbole, etc., being confined to the use of
the learned, have not experienced the fluctuation of popular
inaccuracy, and retain their original meanings unchanged.
But even here there is danger. " Astrology," for instance,
does not now mean the "science of the stars." And of
other words less technical it may be said as a rule that they
never mean precisely the same thing in English that they
meant 1900 years ago in Latin. If, therefore, we relied en-
tirely, or even mainly, on our knowledge of Latin or Greek,
we should always be just a little incorrect in the use of
English derived words. We should use them in what is
called a peclantical sense. Thus Gibbon writes that "the
army of the emperor oppressed a superior force of the enemy,"
where he ought to have written crushed, but was misled by
the Latin meaning of the word oppressit. Still, though this
process must not supplant the method of induction, it is
often of use as a corroboration of the results of induction.

15. Hybrids. — The strict rule for the construction of a
compound word is that all the parts must be from the same
language, i.e., all Greek, or all Latin, or all English. Thus,
since hi is a Latin prefix, and gamy a Greek root, bi-gamy is
a mongrel word, or (which is the Greek for " mongrel") a
" hybrid." The word should be strictly, di-gamy.

But this rule is often violated. It would be an absurd
restriction if we were not to allow ourselves to use the
English affixes, -ncss, Ay, and -less after Latin derived words,
as, rude-ness, equal -hj, care-less. All these are hybrids, but
they are recognized English. Still we cannot imitate Shak-
speare in saying " equal-ness " or "crime-less." In the

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 23

same way we can say dis-like, but not with Chapman dis-
livedj i.e., " deprived of life." On the other hand, the
English prefix an- can be freely used before Latin-derived
adjectives. Custom, and custom only, can determine where
to draw the line.

It may be stated generally, that though the common
words and the grammatical inflections of English are mostly
of English origin, yet the power of forming new words out
of the purely English element is nearly extinct. We can
use the adverbial -ly freely, because it is regarded as a
necessary inflection, but we cannot freely use be- or -en in
order to make new words like be-lwwl or glad-(d)en. We are
often obliged to resort to some Latin-derived word, as stultify,
and indeed sometimes we use a Latin affix after an English
word, as ic-icle, talk-&-tive. The English prepositions are
almost useless for the formation of compound words. We
cannot now use, for instance, the preposition against or gain,
but have to use the Greek and-, sometimes even before Latin-
derived words, e.g., anti-religious.

16. Latin Prefixes.1

It will be a useful exercise to write out the exact meanings of the words
in the right-hand column, tracing the present meaning back to the original
meaning of the prefix and root. An Etymological Dictionary may be
used for this purpose.

A-, ah-, | a- vert, ab-ject.

Abs before c and t, j J abs-tract, abs-cond.

1 Words like subter in subter-fuge, sine in sine-cure, juxta in juxta-
position, that occur once or seldom in the language, are not included in the
list of Prefixes.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Ad-,

ad-here.

Ac- before c

ac-cess.

Af- „

af-fect.

Ag- „

ag-gregate.

Al- „

al-lude.

Am- ,,

m \ to, at

am-munition.

An- „

an-nul.

Ap- „

ap-plaud.

Ar- ,,

arrogance.

As- „

as-sist.

At „

at-tend.

Amb-, on

both sides,

around ;

amb-iguous, am-putate

Ante-,1 before ;

ante-diluvian.

Bis-, \.

Bi- J

bis-cuit, bi-lateral

ice, two ;

bi-gamy.

Circum-,2

around ;

circum-spect.

Con-3

con-nect.

Col- before I

col-lect.

Com- ,,

b and^

h with,

com-bine, corn-pact.

Cor- „

together

cor-rupt.

Co- before a vowel

or h,

co-eval, co-heir, co-

or independent word ; ,

partner.

Contra- )

\ aerainst :

contra-vene.

Contro-i

contro-vert.

modified (French)

into

Counter- ,

against ;

counter-feit.

De-, down, from, off

de-duce, de-throne.

Demi, half

demi-quaver.

1 In the word anti-cipate, ante assumes the exceptional form anti, which

must carefully be distinguished from the regular Greek a/ifi-, meaning
" against."

2 Circu-, in circu-it, circu-itous.

8 Court- in counsel, coun-cil, coun-tenance, derived through the French.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Dis-, \

Di-, L apart, not;

Dif- before/]

En-, a Gallicized form of in,1 which see

Ex-,

dis-join, dis-please.

di-vulge.

dif-fer.

E- before d, n, I, m J>0ut of, out ;

W- „ f

Equi-, equally;

Extra-, beyond (the bounds);

In-, modified into ^

11- before I

Im- ,, p, m

Ir- ,, r

Gallicized into
Em-, en1-
In- before h and ^

vowels,

modified into
II- before I
Im- ,, m, p
Ir- „ r

Inter-,* Gallicized into)
Enter- /between;

Intro-, within ;
Male,^

ex-press

e-duce, e-nervate, e-
normous, e-lucidate,
e-manate.

ef-fect.

equi- distant.

extra-vagant.

in-vade.

il-luminate.
m, into, on, against im-press, im-merge.
(used with verb) ir-radiate.

em-ploy, en-act, en-
title.

in-human.

Mai-,
Mann-, hand

not; (used with il-legal.

adjective) im-measurable.

impendent,
ir-rational.
inter-vention.
enter-tain,
intro-duce.
male-volent.
mal-content.
manu- script.

1 To be carefully distinguished from the regular Greek prefix en-, as in
1 en-cyclical."

2 M in inter and per becomes I in intel-ligence and pel-lucid.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Non-9 not

Ob-, modified into\

Oc- before c

in front of,

Of- „ /

H against ;

Op- „ p

Omni-, all ;

Per-, through, thoroughly ;

Post, after ;

Pre-, before ;

Prefer-, past;

Pro-, Gallicized into)

p t [forward, forth ;

Quadr-, four ;

TJd_ \ back, again ;

Pietro-, backwards ;

Se-, apart, away ;

Semi-, half ;

Sub-, modified into^

Sue- before c

Suf- „ f

under, or, up from

Sug- „ g
Sup- „ ^

under ;

Sur- ,, r

Su(«) ,,5 J

Super- Gallicized intO)^ovp.

SW-

Trans- or tra-,1 across ;
Tri-, thrice ;

non-entity.

ob-stacle.

oc-currencei

of-fend.

op-pose.

omni-potent.

per-fect.

post-pone.

pre-cursor.

preter-natural.

pro-pose.

pur-pose.

quadr -o on.

re-duce.

red-eem.

retro -spective.

se-cede.

semi-colon.

sub-terraneous.

suc-cour.

suf-fer.

sug-gest.

sup-press.

sur-render.

su(s)-spect.

super-fluous.

sur-feit.

trans-itive, tra-mon-

tane.
tri-ple, tri-partite.

1 Gallicized into tres- in tres-pass.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Ultra-,* beyond, advance ;
Un-, )
Urn-, r"1

ultra-liberal,
un-animous.
uni-form.

17. Greek Prefixes;

A-, modified into ^ .,, ,

i [without;
An- beiore vowels )

Amphi-, on both sides ;

Ana-, up, up to, according to ;

Anti-,)
, r against, opposite to;

Aph-y)

Arch-, } ft *.

Archi-,)

Auto-, )

Aut- before a vowel j • '

Cata-,\

Cath-, I down, thoroughly ;

Cat-, J

Deca-, ten

Di-,3 two ;

Dia-, through ;

Bys-, ill ;

Ec-, modified into \

Ex-, before a vowel) ' J

a-pathy.

an-archy.

amphi-bious.

ana-lysis, ana-logy.

anti-septic.

ant-arctic.

apo-gee.

aph-orism.

arch- an gel.

archi-tect.

auto-crat.

aut-opsy, aut-hentic.

cata-strophe.

cat-hedral.

cat-egorical.

deca-gon.

di-phthong.

dia-meter.

dys -peptic.

ec-lectic.

ex-orcism.

1 In the word ultra-montane it has a prepositional force, but usually it is
employed as an adjective, or adverb, meaning " very " or " excessive."

2 Use Etymological Dictionary. Explanation is purposely omitted.

3 An erroneous distinction is often made in spelling the words di-syllable,
and trisyllable, by inserting an unnecessary s in the former.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

En-, modified into "j
Em- before m, b, or p yin, on ;
El- before I. )

Endo-, within ;
Epi- modified into
Ep- before a vowel or
Eu-,1 well;
Exo-,2 outside ;

»}

on :

Hemi-, half;

Hexa-, six ;

Hetero-, different ;

Hepta-, seven ;

Hier-, sacred ;

Holo-, whole ;

Homo-, together, similar;

Hydr-, water.

Hyper-, above, above measure ;

Hypo-, modified into ) ,

Hyp- before a vowel or h )

Meta-, modified into

Met- before a vowel or h )

Mono-, modified into|

Mon- before a vowel) '

OrtJio- right ;

Oxii-, modified into) .-, ,

J ' [tacia, sharp,

Ox- before a vowel, )

Pan-, all ;

Para-, modified into |beside.

Par- before a vowel)

after, change;

en-comium.
em-phasis.
el-liptical.
endo-genous.
epi-taph.

ep-hemeral, ep-och.
eu-phony.
exo-genous, exo-tic,

exo-teric.
hemi-stich.
hexa-meter.
hetero-geneous.
hepta-gon.
hier-archy.
holo-caust.
homo-geneous.
hydr-aulic.
hyper-critical,
hypo-thesis,
hyp-hen.
meta-phor.
met-hod.
mono-graph,
mon-arch.
ortho-epy.
oxy-gen, oxy-tone.
ox-ide.
pan-oply.
para-site,
par-helion.

1 In Utopia then is the Greek ou," no "so that w-fc/Mameans" no-place."

2 Eso-, " into," is found only in eso-terlc.

WOKDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Pent a-, five ;

Peri-, round

Philo-, modified into \ , .

Phil- before a vowel j

Poly-, many;

Pro-, before ;

Pros-, towards ;

Pseudo-, modified into)

ri
Pseud- before a vowel j

Syn- modified into

Syl- before I

Sym- ,, b, m, OYp,

Sy- „ s and z
Tri-, three ;

-with;

penta-teuch.

peri-od.

philo-logy.

phil-anthropy.

poly-pod.

pro-gnostic.

pros-elyte.

pseudo-philosopher.

pseud-onym.

syn-opsis, syn-chronize.

syl-lable.

sym-bol, sym-metry,
sym-pathy.

sy-stem, sy-zygy.

tri-glyph.

The meanings of these words are not given, in order that
the pupil may find out their meanings for himself, in a
dictionary if necessary, and may carefully trace the meaning
of the prefix in the compound word.

18. Teutonic Prefixes.

The following verbal prefixes are of importance —

Be- and en- convert a noun into a trans, verb : x be-fool.
Un- (with sense of negation) un-sex.

For-, fore- (German ver, connected with from or fro), from,
away. Thus,

1 lie also makes an adjective and an intr. verb trans., as be-grim(e),
be-howl.

30 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

For-bear, to keep one's self away from ; forswear, to swear

away from the truth.
For-give, to give away ; fore-done (Spencer), made away with,

wearied. This must be distinguished from
Fore-, beforehand ; fore-tell.

Gain- (a-gainst), opposition ; gain-say.

With- (not our modern with, but German wider), against ; —

with-hold, with- stand.

19. Affixes.

A knowledge of the affixes is not so necessary for un-
derstanding words as the knowledge of prefixes. We all
know that liar is one who lies, without being told that -ar
signifies a male agent. But some of the affixes have under-
gone curious corruptions which have obscured them. It is
as well to know that sweet-heart has nothing to do with the
heart, nor coward with herding coxes. A list of the principal
affixes liable to be misunderstood is therefore appended.

Noun Affixes in Alphabetical Okder.1

affix. meaning. example.

-age (French), condition, vassal-^.

„ ,, result of action, break-^^.

99 „ collective notion, herb-ogre.

-ar, -er (Anglo- j ma]e agen^ W, brew-.r.
Saxon), /

1 Only those affixes which seem to have some definite meaning (for ex-
ample, more definite than the Lat. -ion, and -// in victory or symmetry,
affixes denoting a noun, or little more) are inserted in this and the follow-
ing lists. Those which explain themselves, as -less, -full, arc also omitted.

-eer (Fr.), -yer
(A.-S.), -ier,-
(Fr.),

WOKDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 31

AFFIX. MEANING. EXAMPLE.

I augmentative, often] cow -ard, br agg- art
with opprobrious r but also

meaning, J sweet-heart (-ard).

I place or person adapt- )
ed for some purpose!1 *'

p . 1 lapicL-rtr?/.

or profession, ; r J

-cule (L.), diminutive, corpus -cute.

-ee (Fr.), object of an action, nomin-00.

'personal, indicating) .

.... . [mon-eer, how -yer,

profession, otten mi- rr J

,., grenad-z<?r.

[ htary, ; 8

-el (A.-S.), sometimes instrument shov-el.

. ,. q . fsatch-<?Z, gard-(i.#.

-en, -e ( .- ., | sometimes diminutive J yardWw, lane-**,
or Fr.), ) /

{ ipock-et.

-ery(Seeri/, below).

-head,-hood (A.-S.), condition, \%° " ' man"

v ' I Jwod.

(personal, indicating)
-ician (Greek), [ profession> ] rhetoi -ician.

-icle (L.), diminutive, part-zcJe.

-ic (G-r.), art, science, rhetor-ie, log-ic.

(originally a mere ad- jepidem-fc, Anacre-
i jective termination, j ont-ze.

,. ~, t • i- (farth-(i.£. fourth) -

-mg (A.-S.) ? diminutive, \ . v y

I creed, school of phi-\ dogmat-ww, Pla-
-ism (Gr.), j losophy, a state (of L ton-ism, aneur-

[ disease), j iSMm

-ist (See st, below),
-kin (A.-S.), diminutive, lamb-Am

32 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

AFFIX. MEANING. EXAMPLE.

-Ie(A.-S.), form of / instrument, or dimio d.^ noz.^

-el (See above), 1 nutive, J

-le (L.), originally adiminutive cast-Ze, circ-7<?.

-le(d)ge,

(A.-S.),
-let (A.-S.),
-ling (A.-S.),
-ness (A.-S.),
-ock (A.-S.),

-ow (A.-S.),

I state,

diminutive,
diminutive,
a state,
diminutive,

diminutive,

-red (A.-S.),
-ry, -ery (A.-S),

„ „ (Ft-),

-ship (A.-S.),
-st (Gr.),

-ster (A.-S.),

-tie (Gr.), See -ic,
above.

-tory (L.),

-y.1

state,

collective,
also an art,

condition,

,a profession,
1 Latinized in

(know -ledge, wed-
1 lock.

eye-let, stream-Z^.

duck-ling.

ful(l)-ness

hi\\-ock.
jsh(o)all-ow, pil(e)l-
( ow.

(hat(e)-raZ, kind-
i red.

rook-en/, gent-ry.

gami-ery.
(jewel-(l)ery, devil-
1 ry.

(wor(ih)-shi2),
X friend- ship.
} gymnast, sophi-st,
) dentin, arti-si.

(once feminine agent,)

\ ° fspin-ster, game -ster.

( now agent, )

place,
place of,

(dornii-ton/, lava-
X tory.

smith-?/, lob-(b)y

stith-^.

1 Also often used in nouns derived from nouns, foll-y, bastard-y, and a
very common Greek and Latin termination.

WOKDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

20. Adjective Affixes.

-aceous (L.), of the class of;
-able, -ible (L.), able to, likely

to, transitive or intrans-
itive ;
-ean (Gr.), from Greek proper

names ;
-ferous (L.), productive of ;
-fold (A.-S.), repetition ;
-ian (Lat.), from Latin and

English or Anglican •

proper names ;
-ish (A.-S.), (comparative

force), somewhat;
-ly (A.-S.), like, of the

nature of;
-ose (L.),

full of,
intensive ;

modified into
-ous (L.),
-some (A.-S.), full of;
-tive (L.), able to, inclined to ;
-tory, -sory (L.), of a nature
to;

heih- aceous.

teiY-ible (trans.), e&t-able
(in trans.)

Msckyhean.
■pest-i-ferous.
mmi-fold.

I Yir gil-ian.
Johnson-i<m.
Shakspear-itm.

led-d-ish.

man-fo/, heaven-Z?/.
fverb-os^.

[em-i-ous.
glad-some,
sens-i-tive, talk-SL-tive.

migratory, illusory.

21, Verbal Affixes.

-en, -er, sometimes convert an (broad-m, light-m,

adjective into a verb ; \ hinder, ling-(long)-^r.

-er, sometimes converts a
verb into a frequenta-
tive verb ; pat-t-^r, wand- (wend) -er.

34 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION

-el, -le, sometimes converts

draw-(e)?, nib -(nip) -b-le,
grov- (grope)-cL

a verb into a frequenta-
tive verb ;

-fy (Fr.), has the meaning of mo\li-fy (to make soft).
make ;

22, Derivation is secondary to Induction. — It has

been stated that the method of derivation is insufficient
for ascertaining the meaning of a word. This will be more
apparent after considering the various forms in which a
single Latin root can manifest itself.

(Latin.) Fac, make or do.
Fact, Factor, Factious —
af-, af-fect, &f-jection, a£-jectmg, objected, sS-ject-

ation, etc.
con-, con-jfec-tioner.

de-, de-ject, de-jfoient, de-/cc-tively.

e-, ef-, ei-fect, ef-jfoacious, ef-^c-iently.

in-, in-ject-ion, etc.

op-, (a work), of-jc-e.
per-, per-yktf-ion.

pre-, -pie-feet.

pro-, pro-jfc-ient.

re-, re-jec-toYj.

sub-, suf-, suf-jfa-ient.

We have still to consider the compounds in which the
Latin root appears under a French form.

(French.) Fait, feat, feit, fit, fy, etc.

Feat, com - jit, je as -ible, de-jeat, BW-jeit, counter-/*//, -pro -jit,
horri-/// and many other verbs in -fy.

Nothing but a knowledge of idiomatic English could show

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 35

the difference between pro-yfc-ient and yro-jit, or could enable
us to distinguish the various meanings of d£-fect, &f-fect-e&.
And in tracing these changes of meaning we also require a
knowledge of idiomatic Latin. The mere knowledge of the
meanings of in- and con- would not enable us safely to
explain how from a common root there sprang two words so
different as con-^otioner and in^c-tion, unless we pos-
sessed some knowledge of Latin. Where, however, the two
processes of induction and analysis are used together, each
has its value. It will be a good exercise to trace the known
meanings of the words in the appended list back to the
meaning of the root. An English Etymological Dictionary
may be used.

23. Latin Roots.

Ag-, Act-i, set in motion.
Ag-ile, amb-^-uity, nav-w/-ation, ex-ig-ency.

Cap-, cip-, -cept, take.
Anii- cip-sde, capt-ive, con- cept -ion, ex-cept.

Capit-, head.
Capit-al, cap>it-ula,te, chapt-er, chap-el, coip-oial.2

Curb-, curs-, run.
Curr-ency, curs-ory, suc-conr.

Die-, say.
In-dite9 vei-dict, in-dic-ative, m-dex, dic-i&tor.

1 Verbs in Latin usually form the passive participle by adding t to the root.
Thus audi-, hear, " audi-ence," appears in the form "audit.'' Where,
however, the root ended in d, I, n, v, g, modifications were made for
euphony. This explains why two apparently different roots are often found
side by side, e.g., ced-e, cession; im-pel, im-puls-e ; tend, tens-ion
solv-e, solu-tion ; ag-ent, act-ion.

2 Some, however, consider that the French caporal is itself a corruption
of corporal.

36 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Da-, dit-, give.
Ad-d, dat-e, e-dit, swcren-der.

Fer-, irregular lat-, bring, bear.
Con-fer-ence, re-fer-ee, di-lat-ory, fer-iile, super-to-ive,
re-to-ive.

Gen-, gener-, a race.
De-gener-&te, gener-olize, indi-#<m-ous, m-gen-uitj.

Jung-, junct-, join.
Jimct-me, joint-wee, sub -junct-ive.

Manu-, hand.
Mann-i&ctwce, mort-main, qyL&drxi-manous.

Mitt-, miss-, send.
Vre-mise,1 com-mzss-ion, de-mise, dis-miss.

Nasc-, nat-, be born.
Xasc-ent, nat-wee, un-7ia£-ural, super-?i«£-ural, nat-iovL.

Nose-, learn, nota-, mark.
Not-ion, no-hle, de-note, con-note.

Pend-, pens-, hang, weigh (money).
Com-^>67?s-ation, mde-pend-ence, expense, equi-jwise, pens-
ive.

Plic-, plex-,/o/^.
Ex-jjlic-it, im-ply, sim-ple, dou-ble, sup-j9?/c-ate.

Pose-, pos-, place.
Com-^os-ition, jjos-itive, re-jwse, swp-pose.

Beg-, rect-, make straight.
Cov-rect, roy-td, reg-ion, reg-imen.

Hog-, ask.
Vre-rog-ative, ob-rog-nte, pro-/w/-ue, de-rog-tite.

1 Sometimes spelt premiss in logic.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 37

SED-, SID-, SESS-, sit.

B>esid-num, assize, ses-sions, subsid-y.

Sequ-, secut-, follow.
Ex-(s)ee-ute, con-sequ-enee, sequ-el, en-sue, obsequ-ies, sue,
suite.

Solv-, solut-, loose (the restraint of debt).
Solve, absolv-e, absol-nte, solv-ent, solu-ble, dissolut-e,
resolv-e,

Spec-, spic-, see.
Gon-spic-VLOVLS, respect, despite, suspic-ion, cirenmsj^ect,

auspic-es.

Sta-, stat-, Stic-, stand.
Stat-e, statistics, circum-sta-nce, con-sta-nt, ex-ta-nt, in-
sta-nee, msta-nt, ob-sta-cle, inter-s£ic-e, sol-s£ic-e, stat-ion,
sub-sta-nce.

Tend-, tens-, stretch, direct one's path.
Tend, at-tend-2in.ee, tens-ion, in-tent-\on, tend-on, in-tens-

ity.

Trac-, tract-, draw, manage.
Treat, treat-j, treat-ise, abs-tract, eon-tract, re-tract, re-
treat, dis-tract, sub-tract, tract-able, tract, train, trait, por-

tray.

Yen-, vent-, come.

Conventional, eo-ven-ant, eon-vent, nre-vent, a-ven-ue,

re-ven-ne, supervene, eireum-vent.

Vert-, vers-, turn.
Con-vert, eon-verse-\y, divers-ion, di-vorce, di-verse, re-
vers-ion, re-verse, ad-vert, ad-verse, ner-vert, tra-verse, trans-
verse, t'ers-atile, vers-ed (in), and hence malvers-ation, conr

vers- ation, etc.

Vid-, vis-, see.
Provis-ional, provid-ence, e-vid-eni, en-vy, nro-vis-o.

38 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Volv-, voLUT-, roll.
In-to/?tf-ion, e-roto-ion, re-roZirt-ion, con-ro?w£-ion, vault
(verb and noun).

24. Greek Roots.

The Greek roots are less common and less disguised
by change than the Latin. Hence there is little scope for
ingenuity in tracing a Greek root, like a Latin root, through
various disguises. But there is a peculiar utility in the
study of Greek roots. As the Greek compounds are
generally used for scientific purposes in technical meanings,
they have not been subjected to the modifications of popular
usage ; they (for the most part) still retain their original
meanings, which can be deduced at once from a knowledge
of the roots. Moreover, new terms are being continually
created by combinations of these roots for technical pur-
poses. Thus, take the root iso-, equal, demo-, people, arch-,
rule, and log-, discourse. Is-archy might be invented to mean
"equality of rule," or dem-archy to mean "the rule of
the people," and demo-logy and arch-o-logy might represent
"the science of peoples" and "the science of government."
As these words do not often occur in conversation, they must
be learned by study, and if the reader has not studied Greek
he is recommended to master the meanings of the appended
words, referring to a dictionary when it is necessary, and
ascertaining how the meaning of the compound is deduced
from the meanings of the roots. Thus, " epi-tfem-ic means
that which is over or on a people." It is an adjective with
disease understood, and is therefore a short way of saying
a disease spreading over a whole people.

Some of the compounds have been purposely omitted, in

WOKDS DEFINED BY DEEIVATION.

order that the pupil may be on the alert to suggest ad

ditional compounds.

Anthropo-, man;

Arch-, prior (in time or in

rank) ;
Aster- astro-, star ;

anthropo -logy.
arc/i-aism, heipt-arch-y.

Bed-, throw;

Biblio-, book ;

Bio-, life ;

Ceico-, bad ;

Chron-, time ;

Cosm-, world or ornament ;

Creit-, (crac-y), govern-
ment ;

Grit- (cris-), judge ;

Crypt-, cryp-, secret ;

Cycl-, circle ;

Bern-, people ;

Box-, opinion ;

Byneim-, force ;

Erg-, org-, urg-, work ;

Gam-, marriage ;

Ge-, earth ;

Gen-, kind ;

Graph-, greim-, write, or
draw, written ;

Heelron, a seat, flat side of
a solid :

Helio-, sun ;

Hod- (ocl-), way ;

Hyelr-, water;

eister-isk, eistro-logy, eistro -nomy,
hyiper-bole, para-fe, "ovo-blem,

sym-bol.
biblio -m&nm.
ceno-bi-te.
caco-phony.
iso-chron-ous.
cosm- etic, micro -cosm.

bureau-crac-y.

era-is, hy^o-crite.

cr?/£tf-o-gamous, apo-cn/p-hal,

en-cyclo-Tpee&m.

eipi-dem-ic,

para-cfoa?.

hydro- dynetm-ics.

en-erg-y, met&ll-urg-y, org-sm,

orypto-#am-ia,

apo-^6*.

homo-gen-eous.

tele-greiph, par-allelo-^raw,.

^o\j -heelron,

^Qri-helion.
met-hod, peri-od.
%dr-ates, cleTps-ydra,

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Idio-, peculiar ;
Iso-, equal ;
Leg-, choose, speak;
Litho-, stone ;
Log-, discourse, science ;
Lysis-, melting, weakening
Mechan- (Lat. machin-),
machine ;

Metr- (-meter), measure ;

Mon-, alone ;

Naus- (naut), ship ;

Neo-, new ;

Nom-, law, measure out ;

Ode-, song ;

Onym-, name ;

Paid-, peed-, boy ;

Path-, suffering, feeling ;

Phan- (j)hen-,fan-), cause

to appear ;
Pharmac-, drug ;
Phil-, friend, love;
Phon-, sound;
Phrasis-, speaking;
Phys-, nature ;
Plas-, mould, shape ;
Polis-, a country ;
Pod-, foot ;
Poi-, make ;
Proto-, first ;
Psych-, soul ;
Pter-, wing;

idio-t, idio-syncrasy.
iso -thermal.

ec-le(g)c-tic, le(g)x-icon.
litho -gr&phy, mono-lith.
dm-log-ue, apo-Zo#-y.
; ema-lysis, para-fo/sis.

v mechan-ism.

(sym-m^tr-y, hydro -meter, tri-gon-
1 o-metr-y.

mono-tony, ??wmo-poly.

aero-naut, naus-e&.

neo -phyte.

&stro-nom-y, eco-iiom-y.

rhaps-od-y, par-od-y.

raet-onym-y, onomat-o-rycem.

paid-eutics, £>«d-o-baptism.

path-o-logy, sym-path-y.

I 2)han-t&sm,fan-cy, jihen-omenon.

pharmac -o-poeia.

phil-teY, jc/u7-o-soph-er.

sym-phon-y, jihon-etic.

iperi-jrfirasis.

met&-phys-ics, jihys-i-o-logy.

plas-tic, proto-plasm.

polit-ics, cosmo-polit<\ polic-e.

anti-podes, poly-;>?/s-.

onomat-o-jo^w.

proto-co\, proto --plasm.

met-em-jw^/c/t-osis, y^/c/z-o-logy.

lepido-^/</v/.

WOEDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Scop-, watch ;
SojjJi-, wise ;
Stick-, verse ;
Stroph-, a turning ;
Techn-, art ;

The-, thet-, thes-, put ;

Theo-, God ;
Tom-, cut, divide ;
Ton-, tone ;
Trop-, turn;
Top-, place ;
Typ-, pattern ;
Zoo-, animal;

scop-e, tele-scope.

soph-ist, philo-sop/i-er.

distich, acrostic.

&postroph-ize, c&t&stroph-e.

techn-iesl, ipoly-technic.
jhypo-£/i?s-is, the-me, ev)i-thet, anti-
( thes-is, ysLY-en-thes-is, syn-thes-i$.

theo-logy ; poly-^A^-ism.

&-tom, eipi-tom-e, ana-fom-y.

mono-fcm-y, ton-ic.

trop-e, troji-ical.

top -ic, U-fop-ia.

ty^o-graphy, moke-type, &nti-type.

£0-diac, zoo-phyte.

Phonetic Laws of Derivation.

25. National Preferences.— Grimm's Law.— When a
word, as, for instance, three, is found in similar forms in dif-
ferent languages, it is natural to account for the differences
by saying that the several forms suited the several nations.
"Drei" we might say, " was easier to pronounce for the Ger-
mans, tres for the Latins, three for the English." This theory
has been justified by the collection of a large number of
instances of changes differing similarly in the different lan-
guages. In the example just now mentioned, t, d, and th,
which are all consonants pronounced by the action of the
tongue on the teeth, are interchanged ; and this might sug-
gest that the national preference, when rejecting a consonant,
replaces it by some consonant uttered by the same organs
as the first. This suggestion is warranted by fact. It has

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

been shown by Grimm that the same words when found in
(1) Sanscrit, Greek, or Latin, (2), Low German (which may-
be represented by English), (3), High German, exhibit three
systematically varying forms, in which three different conso-
nants of the same organ are regularly found.

26. Classification of Consonants. — I. Consonants
can be arranged according to the organs by which they are
pronounced: (1) labials; (2) dentals, or palatals ; (3) guttu-
rals. II. They can also be arranged according to the na-
ture of the exit of the sound. The air may be entirely
stopped, as in (1) checks; or some may be allowed to
escape, as in (2) breathings ; or the air may pass through
the nose, as in (3) nasals. To these three classes are added
(4) the aspirates, and (5) r and I, which are called trills.
III. Again, of consonants uttered by the same organ, as p
and b, t and d, one is harder than the other ; and this in-
troduces another distinction, (1) hard, (2) soft. See the table
illustrating all these distinctions, at the end of the book.

The following table will be sufficient to illustrate Grimm's
law : —

HAED.

SOFT.

ASPIRATE.

Dentals

Labials

Gutturals

k, c'

1 Hard.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

27. Grimm's Law is that a hard consonant in (1) San-
scrit, Greek, or Latin hecomes the corresponding aspirate
in (2) Low German (English), and the corresponding soft
consonant in (3) High German ; and that aspirates and softs
in (1) are modified in a corresponding manner. The law
may be exhibited thus : —

Sanscrit, Greek, Latin

Hard

Aspirate

Soft

Low German (English)

Aspirate

Soft

Hard

High German

Soft

Hard

Aspirate

Examples.

Dentals

[Sans., Gr., or Lat.
\ English
(High German

Tres

Three

Drei

T/mgater
Daughter
Tochter

Duo
Two
Zwei

Labials

[Sans., Gr., or Lat.
\ English
(High German

Hejjta
Set en
Siefren

Frater

Drother

[Pruoder1]

LaM
S-lip
Shli/ian

Gutturals

[Sans,, Gr., or Lat.
A English
I High German

Cor

ileart

flerz

FZbrtus
harden

[Zarteni]

Amek/ein

Mil*

Milch

1 Old forms.

2 (a) The scarcity of aspirated consonants causes many exceptions.
Other causes of irregularity are (b) the degree to which the High Germans
have assimilated their language to that of the Low Germans; (c) the com-
bination of consonants, as st, sp, etc., where the s protects the t andp from
the change.

44 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

Exercises.1

(1.) Dental and Palatal Changes. — Illustrate by lizard,
eat, mead (honey), tame, thou, thin, treasure, deal, father,
mother, weather, this, (Ital.) mezzo, meaning ' middle,'
dozen, groat (Germ, groschen), street (Germ, strasse),
that, deer [Germ, thier pronounced teer\, door,
water.

(2.) Labial Changes. — Illustrate by nephew, wife, troop,
flat, father, tavern, chivalry, beef, provost.

(3.) Guttural Changes. — Illustrate by dragon, gross, guitar,
yesterday, cherry, chain, chair, radish, fashion, parish,
meagre, yoke. (Y m y-clept, y-clad, is a form of the old
participial prefix ge-.)

28. Other changes of Consonants — H and s are

sometimes found commuted, as in hall (Germ, saal), six
(Lat. sex, Gr. hex).

A consonant coalescing with the following vowel may
undergo modification, as in English when t is followed by
ion, ti is pronounced almost like sh. This may explain how
from Lat. cavea there comes cage, and from Lat. rabies comes
rage.

G, when (as sometimes in German) a soft guttural, is
scarcely audible. Hence A.-S. provincial gif by the side of if.
Many French words exchanged the old initial w for gu (where
the g is now hard, but once seems to have been an aspirate).
Compare Old Fr. warantir with modern garantir, and
Teutonic war with guerre ; wise with guise ; wile with guile.

The interchanging of r and Hsa common fault in children.

1 An Etymological Dictionary is to be used, which gives the kindred
words, so that a knowledge of German, or any other language but English,
is not necessary.

WOEDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 45

"horn (Germ, ver-loren, " lost ") and "lost are the same
words. R and s are also interchanged, as in " frore " 2 and
" frost.''

29. Contraction. — (a) In the Middle of the "Word. —
As a rule, French words, and English words derived from
Latin through French, drop some part of the original word ;
thus, from the Latin desiderium and civitas we have desire and
city. Compare the pronunciation of Gloucester, Leicester, etc.

Exercise. — Illustrate by palsy, doubt, marvel, moiety,
treason, miscreant, peril, poor, priest, surname, muster, mea-
sure, glaive, grant, chance, blame, count, cost, daunt, due,
gourd, preacli, rill, seal, sure.

(b) Loss of Prefix. — Uncle2 from avunculus ; strange from
extraneus, sample from exemplum, scarce from Low Lat. ex-
carpsus (from ex and carpo), sprain from exprimo, soar from
exaurare.

30. Extension. — (a) Addition. — Two forms of the same
verb are often found in English, differing only in that one
has an initial s. Thus plash, splash, melt, smelt.

(b) Repetition of Consonants. — Corporal from caporal,3
registrar from register, partridge from perdrix, Fr. ; perdix,
Lat.; velvet from velluto, tapestry from tapisserie, Fr. These
are cases of the repetition of a striking letter already in the
word.

1 Milton, P. i., it 595.

2 The av is the root of the word.

3 This is. however, denied by some. Caporal may itself be a corruption of
corporal. '

46 WOKDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

The following are instances where a weak syllable is
strengthened ; tremere becoming tremr,1 or trend, requires a
b, trembl(e), and cinres (from cineres) becomes cindres,
cinders.

Thus -incere, -ingere, and -angere, in Latin, regularly be-
come -aincre, -eindre, -aindre in French, where the nasal 71
receives some additional support.

Exercise. — Illustrate by remember, passenger, messenger,
impregnable, semblance, assembly; counter from contra
(through contr) receives the e as an equivalent for the last
vowel, and also has its first syllable strengthened.

Accent influences spelling by sometimes necessitating the
lengthening of a syllable which receives an accent, and by
lightening the syllable which loses the accent. Thus conseil,
counsel, suffaucare, suffocate, ordino, ordain, crevasse, crevice.
Venison in English is nearly vert son: hence it is spelt venison,
instead of Fr. venaison.

Addition after m and n Final. — Climb from cli-man, A.-S.,
sound from soun, yond from yon. Compare in Elizabethan
English vild from vil (Fr.), gownd for gown.2

31. Liquid Changes. — The insertion or omission of a
vowel is particularly common with -re and -er, -le and -el.
Thus render, and the whole class of French-derived verbs
in -er, from rendre (Fr.) etc., and table, fable, etc., from
the Latin tabula, fabula, etc. Here sometimes a vowel is
omitted, as in passing from Lat. reddere to Fr. rende(e)ret
Then the former e is re-inserted, and the latter omitted in

1 The termination was absolutely cut off in Old French.

2 Extension may be sometimes explained by the important law that, iu
Romance languages, nouns follow the Latin crude form, rather than the
nominative form. Hence, French nation (not nutio). Sopont {not pons).

WOEDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 47

passing from Fr. rendre to Eng. render (e). So (1) Lat. tabula,
(2) Fr. tab(u)le, (3) Eng. tab-el (in sound). This is easily
explained by the fact that a kind of burr or half-vowel
accompanies the effort to pronounce a liquid. Thus there
is a half- vowel concealed before I in jugg(e)ler, and after any
strongly-pronounced r. So sirrah, the emphatic form of sir.
Sometimes this looks like transposition, as in (Lancashire)
brid for bird. Illustrate by entertain, troop, purpose, crimson.

32, Assimilation of Vowels.— There is a tendency to
assimilate the vowels before, and after, liquid or light com-
binations of consonants. Hence, when a preceding vowel is
changed in the passage from one language to another, the
following vowel is often similarly changed. Thus sinorogdus,
Lat., becomes esnieralde, old Fr., emerald, Eng. ; mzrabilia
becomes maravigria It., merveilles Fr. : bfloncia, Lat., be-
comes btfkince.1 So, -ren being more distinct than er, forces
assimilation in brother, brethren, and in the pronunciation of
child, children, woman, women.

Changes of Meaning in Derivation.

33. — It was shown above that it is not always possible to
deduce the exact meaning of an English word derived from
the Latin, e.g., oppress, from a knowledge of the meaning of
the Latin original. The changes of meaning which a word
undergoes in passing from one language and from one age
to another are too various and subtle to admit of classifi-
cation that shall be at once exact and brief. But a few
general laws may be specified.

34. (1) The Law of Change.— It is almost impossible

1 Compare the modification of the vowel in German monosyllabic nouns
that "make their plural in -er, as mann, manner, where the d is pronounced
like our e in men.

48 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

that a word should retain precisely the same meaning for a
long time together. The name of a definite object, e.g., cherry,
pear, plum, fig, may be handed down unchanged ; but there
will probably be some changes in the associations suggested
by the word, as in prune, raisin, and still more in beef, pork,
and mutton. As thought and circumstances change, some
changes in the meaning of a word are almost inevitable.
Some words that were once vulgar become respectable,
others that were once recondite become popular ; but in
any case a change of some kind is probable, and especially
when the word passes from one language into another, where
it has to fight for its existence, and acquire a province of its
own after a struggle with the native synonyms. Illustrate
by blame (blasphemare), ark (area), cease (cessare), chalk [calx,
not cretci), chivalry (caballus, not equus), chair (cathedra), mop
(mappa), cash (capsa), chant (cantare), claim (clamare), couch
(collocare), a count (comes), desk, dish (discus), fail (fallo),
fan (v annus, not flabellum), frock (floccus), frown (frons),
coast (costa), juice (jus), lace (laqueus), noise (noxia), pain
(pama), pay (pacare), place (platea), praise (prctiare), preach
(predicare), rest (restare), scent (sentire), spice (species), sue
(sequor), sure (securus), taint (ductus), tense (tempus), test
(testis), toast (tostus), try (terere), jest (gesta).

35. (2) The Law of Contraction.— This law is natural
in civilized society. As a nation develops, the national
thought is developed, and becoming more definite and com-
plicated recognizes more distinctions, and requires new words
to express them. Hence, as the number of words increases,
the province of each word diminishes.

This is especially exemplified by words denoting measure-
ment. In the early stages of language a stick, an arm, or

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 49

foot, a bag, a furrow's ordinary length, an ordinary field,
were sufficiently definite measurements. In course of time
the measurements were more closely defined, and the words
which expressed them for the most part lost their original
and general meaning, and were narrowed down to their new
technical meaning of measurement. Thus, though foot and
stone still have their double meanings, yard no longer
means " wand " or " stick " ; acre no longer means "a
field," nor furlong "a furrow-long," moy peck (or poke) "a
bag," nor bushell a " little box."

We may naturally expect that Latin words denoting very
common things and actions will find their meaning contracted
when introduced into English. Having the word " sing,"
we have no need of the Latin " cantare," but we can use it
for a special meaning, " chant." We do not want " praedicare "
for " declare," or " state," but we can conveniently use it for
" preach." Having the English " follow," we do not want
" sequor," but we can use it for a legal kind of following,
" sue." It may be added that all these Latin-derived words
in very common use (which are mostly monosyllabic) come
to us through the French, from a very early period. During
the dark ages which followed the overthrow of the Eoman
empire by the barbarians, the Latin language was debased.
The polite, language was forgotten, and the colloquial talk
of peasants and slaves became the ordinary vehicle of
expression. Hence caballus, not equus, pacare, not solvere
or pendere, bulla or cupa, not poculum, originated our
modern chivalry, pay, bowl, and cup.

But the same law of contraction also holds good with re-
spect to classical Latin words introduced later into English.
And here we have the advantage of being able to trace the
process of contraction in our own language. Amid the influx

50 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

of Latin words during the sixteenth century, many were intro-
duced to express ideas that either could be or were already
expressed in the existing English vocabulary. These words
were at first used by English authors in their Latin sense.
Thus, speculation (watching, looking out), in a well-known
passage1 of Shakspeare, is used for " the power of seeing."
But there was no reason why our native word " sight "
should be expelled by the Latin intruder. What was to be
done in such a case ? In some cases the intruder was ex-
pelled as useless ; in others, and in this particular case, the
native word " sight" retained its meaning, and speculation,
finding the broader room which it had once filled in
Latin preoccupied in English, contented itself with re-
tiring into a narrow meaning, "the sight, or looking after
gain," or else "the looking after truth." In the same way
extravagant, though used by Shakspeare in the sense of
" wandering," now means a particular kind of wandering, a
wandering beyond the bounds of economy. Exorbitant in
Latin meant "out of the way," in Elizabethan English " un-
common ; " now it is only applied, in a narrower signification,
to that which is an uncommon and excessive demand.

Illustrate this law by advertise, aggravate, capitulate, claim
(clamare), corroborate, fable, ferocious, immunity, journal,
mansion, modest, travel, vulgar, table, vision, camp*

36. (3) The Law of Metaphor. — When a foreign word
implving a simple idea, as videre "to Bee," stands side by
side with the native word, it is natural, as has boon shown
above, that the native word should retain its ordinary mean-
ing, and that the foreign word should be forced to seek for

1 Macbeth, iii. 4. 95.

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 51

some side -meaning. Thus Latin compounds are often used
to express (a) abstract and philosophical terms, as vision,
"the power of seeing," or else (b) some extraordinary sense,
as vision, "a spiritual revelation through the sight," or (c)
some metaphorical use of the word, as "ipro-vident" The
metaphorical use of Latin- derived words is very common
indeed. It may be illustrated by extra-vagant, ex-orbitant,
above, also by regimen, circumstance.

37. (4) The Law of Extension. — Though the law of
contraction is the prevalent law in derivation, yet there
is a class of words that extend instead of contract
their meaning. These are mostly technical words, and,
as might be expected from the language of the Eomans,
they for the most part concern law or war. In such
cases the process of extension is natural. When a
technical word is introduced from one language into
another, the narrow technicality, after being preserved
artificially by the learned for a time, must soon be impaired,
and finally destroyed. Thus influence was once a technical
term of astrology to denote the mysterious power that
flowed from the stars upon the destinies of men : now it
means any modifying power, and not merely that of the
stars. The word triumph is not now confined to a pro-
cession celebrating a victory over a conquered enemy.
Similarly, privilege, which formerly had a technical meaning,
" a law passed relating to an individual," now means gene-
rally any right enjoyed by a part only of a community.

Illustrate by decimate, idea, impediment, pomp, company,
prevaricate, legion, prejudice, fine, pain, place (platea, a broad
street, still retained in our technical use of " place ").

Many technical words in Latin have assumed a slightly

52 WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION.

different technical meaning in English, as prerogative, sacra-
ment, cash (capsa).

38. (5) The Law of Deterioration. — The natural polite-
ness of mankind, and perhaps a deficiency in the moral sense,
induces men to give a soft name to moderate faults.
"Deceitfulnes's " is palliated by being called "tact,"
" moroseness " is called " reserve," and so on. Hence
the good names are dragged down by the bad associa-
tions. Thus the misuse of cunning and craft has degraded
them from a good to a bad sense. Impertinent, which once
meant "not to the point," now involves a more serious
charge ; officious, which meant " exact in the performance
of duty," is now applied to a bustling busybody, and a
libel is no longer an innocent " little book." This law is
still in force. "A sharp fellow" is not always a term of
praise, and sharp practice is a recognized euphemism for
knavery.

Historical influences may here be frequently traced, as
in the word villain, which, from originally meaning a la-
bourer on a farm or villa, came to mean literally a serf, and
hence, metaphorically, a man with the qualities of a slave,
and then, a man with any very bad qualities. Illustrate by
churl, clown, knave.

39. (G) The Law of Amelioration. — It is rare indeed to
find a word like fond (foolish; O.'E.fonnc) improved by time.
Occasionally a great moral influence like Christianity steps
in and raises a word like liuniiHtij from being a contemptible
fault to the level of a virtue, or ennobles a word like minister.
Or, in quite a different way, a word that once expressed a
fault is sometimes used in a jocose manner to imply clever-

WORDS DEFINED BY DERIVATION. 53

ness, as shrewd (which once meant wicked). Party-names
sometimes exemplify this law. Whig and Tory were once
terms of contempt. They are not now; nor, probably, is
the word Radical. Christian has now a far nobler meaning
than when the nickname was first invented by the populace
of Antioch. Of the same kind are words originally implying
noble birth, and hence transferred to nobleness of character,
such as generous, gentle, ingenuous.

SECOND PART.

CHAPTER I.

THE DICTION OF POETRY.

40. The Diction of Poetry.— Diction comprises the
choice, arrangement, and connection of words. As regards
the arrangement and connection of words, Poetry and highly
impassioned Prose are sometimes not very dissimilar ; but
in the choice of words a marked distinction is observed by
most of the best Prose writers. Poetry, in its different styles,
uses almost all the words of polite Prose : but Prose avoids
a number of words belonging to Poetic Diction. For
example, ire, common in Poetry, is rare in good modern Prose.

The principle of the distinction between the diction of
prose and poetry lies in the difference of object of the two
kinds of composition. The object of prose is, in general, to
convey information, that of poetry to give pleasure. Hence
the prose writer, in his choice of a word, will prefer that
which conveys his meaning most successfully, the poet will
prefer that which gives most pleasure. It is true that each
sort of writer will keep both objects in view at once, but
what is the primary object to the one will always be
secondary to the other, and vice versa. From this general
principle arise the following characteristics of poetic
diction. Poetic diction is (1) archaic, and often averse to

THE DICTION" OF POETRY. 55

the use of colloquial words ; (2) picturesque; (3) euphonious,
and averse to lengthiness.

41. Poetic Diction is Archaic and Non-collo-
quial. — (a) This often arises from the fact that the archaic
forms are less lengthy than the modern ; but the use of
such words as halloived for holy, sojourn for lodge, wons for
dwells, a-weary for fatigued or tired, and other similar cases,
cannot thus be explained. The use of thou and ye for you
comes under the same head, (b) In elevated poetry, such
words as woe, blissful, baleful, ken, doleful, dire, ire, thrall,
guile, joyous, etc., are very common. Their occurrence in
ordinary modern prose is quite exceptional.

The explanation of the archaism of poetic diction seems to
be this. Poetry being less conversational than prose, is less
affected than prose is by the changes of a living language,
and more affected by the language and traditions of the
poetry of past ages. Not all words are adapted for metre,
and therefore the limitations of metre in themselves are suf-
ficient to explain the preference in poetry for certain forms
and words. These forms and words, constantly repeated by
successive poets, become as it were the legitimate inherit-
ance of all who write poetry. Thus they acquire poetic
associations in addition to their original adaptability for
metre, and they therefore maintain their ground in poetry
even when displaced from prose. Moreover, apart from
poetic convention, the antique and venerable associations
which connect themselves with everything that is ancient
contain in themselves sufficient reason why archaic words
should linger in elevated poetry. From such considerations
as these, Spenser employed throughout the whole of his
" Faery Queene " a diction which was almost as archaic to

56 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

his contemporaries as it is to us. In dramatic poetry, such
words are more sparingly used, as we might naturally expect
where the object is to set life as it is, really and vividly
before the spectator.

Archaic phrases, as well as archaic words, are common
in poetry. They are for the most part shorter than the
corresponding modern phrases, e.g., meseems for "it seems
to me;" haply for " by chance;" as thinking for " inas-
much as he thought;" had for " would have;" and the
archaic use of the subjunctive to express a wish, as in
" Time prove the rest ! "

42. Poetic Diction is Picturesque. — Poetry should
be " simple, sensuous, and passionate " (Milton). By
" sensuous " is meant that which appeals readily to the
senses, and hence poetry prefers picturesque images to
the enumeration of dry facts. Compare the poetry of the
following —

The blackbird whistles from the thorny brake :
The mellow bullfinch answers from the grove :
Nor are the linnets, o'er the flowering furze
Pour'd out profusely, silent.

The jay, the rook, the daw,
And each harsh pipe, discordant heard alone,
Aid the full concert ; while the rock-dove breathes
A melancholy murmur through the whole,

Thomson's Seasons.

with the prosaical or rather the comical effect of

Now, too, the feather'd warblers tune their notes
Around, and charm the listening grove. The lark,
The linnet, chaffinch, bullfinch, goldfinch, greenfinch !

The Critic.

Where pleasure is the purpose of language, it is natural

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 57

that each word should be adapted, as far as possible, to call
up some image. Poetry will therefore often eschew generic
terms, such as tree, flower, and will prefer to mention some
particular tree or flower, as :

And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale j

where "under some tree's shade" would have been less
picturesque, and therefore less fitted for poetry. In the
same way, " Go, lovely rose," is far more picturesque than
" Go, lovely flower." So far, however, poetry agrees with
impassioned prose, which, like poetry, often selects the more
vivid and particular, in preference to that which is vague
and general. Prose often prefers " the lilies of the field " to
the flowers, and u Solomon in all his glory " to '-'a glorious
monarch." But poetry goes further than this. This is a
characteristic of thought ; the next paragraph describes a cha-
racteristic, not of thought, but of diction, which is peculiar
to poetry, and inadmissible in prose.

42 a. Pretic Diction substitutes an Epithet for
the thing denoted. — Thus the sky can be mentioned in
poetry as " the azure " or " the blue," as in

Below the chestnuts when their buds
Were glistening to the breezy blue.

Tennyson.

So the silent and as it were vacant midnight can be described
as "the dead vast (waste) of the night." In the same way
Milton uses "the dank " for water, and "the dry" for land
as distinguished from water. We are allowed in prose to
use adjectives for nouns, as "the dead," "the past," and
perhaps "the right," but it is only in the hands of a very
skilful writer that such adjective-nouns may be used in prose

58 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

preceded by another adjective. They are used frequently and
with great effect by the author of Adam Bede :

"Yet these commonplace people, many of them, bear a con-
science, and have felt the sublime prompting to do the painful
right ; they have their unspoken sorrows and their sacred joys,
their hearts have perhaps gone out toward their first-born, and
they have mourned over the irreclaimable dead."

42b. Ornamental Epithets. — Even where so bold a
course as the above is not adopted, epithets occupy a more
important place in poetry than prose. They are often added
to give colour and life to a picture, and in such cases they may
be called ornamental epithets. Take the following examples :

His dog attends him .... and now with many a frisk

Wide scampering snatches up the drifted snow

With ivory teeth. Coioper.

Here ivory seems intended to bring out the contrast between

the yellowish whiteness of the dog's teeth and the perfect

whiteness of the snow.

And the thunder
Wing'd with red lightning and impetuous rage.

Milton.

Here the epithet red, connected in our minds partly with

blood, partly with light obscured by fog, heightens the turbid

and horrific effect.

The swan, with arched neck,
Between her tvhite wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet. Mil fan.

Of the same kind are " the tawny lion,"1 "his brinded mane,"1
"the swift stag,"1 " his branching head."1 Such epithets
would not be allowed in ordinary prose unless it wore
necessary to call attention to the tawny colour of the lion,

1 Milton, P. L. vii.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 59

or to the horns of the stag, as, for example, " the tawny lion
was almost invisible as he couched on the dry and leafless
sand, while the branching head of the stag stood out in clear
relief against the sky." Here the epithets are really not
epithets, but essential parts of the subject. We are speaking,
not of the lion or the stag, but of the " tawny-colour-of-the-
lion," and the "branching-horns-of-the-stag." These latter
may be called essential epithets, as distinguished from the
former, which may be called ornamental. " Yellow " in
"yellow harvest" is often ornamental, at least in English
poetry, where " harvest " only applies to corn ; but in

Twin'd with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield,
Or reap'd in iron harvests of the field.

Pope, Essay on Man, iv. 11.

" iron" is essential, for without this epithet the meaning of
" harvests of iron-clad warriors mown down in the battle-
field " would not be conveyed.

Of course, where the poet is describing anything (as
Milton is describing, in the passages just quoted, the first
creation of the swan), epithets that would otherwise be
ornamental become descriptive, and almost essential. In the
poetry of Homer, epithets are often used almost like names,
without any special reference to the thing described. Thus,
" swift-footed " is an epithet applied to Achilles, not merely
when running, but when speaking. This, though not un-
common in our ballad-poetry, is rare in our best poets,
except where the old simplicity of the ballad style is inten-
tionally imitated :

And answer made the bold1 Sir Bedivere,

" Sir King, I closed mine eyelids lest the gems

Should blind my purpose." — Tennyson, Morte d' Arthur.

1 This epithet is several times repeated.

60 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

42 c. Essential Epithets.— The following arc good
examples of essential epithets, some of which are necessary
for the picturesque effect, and others are necessary for the
meaning. The former belong properly to the subject we
are now considering, namely, the picturesqueness of poetry,
and the latter come more fitly under the next head, the
terseness of poetry ; but very often epithets occur which
are almost necessary for the sense as well as for the pictu-
resqueness, and these fall under both heads. Thus, in

What shook the stage and made the people stare ?
Cato's long wig, flowered gown, and lacquered chair,

Pope.

"long wig" really means " the length of Cato's wig," and
" long " is essential for the sense. So in

Exact Racine and Corneille's noble fire
Showed us that France had sometliing to admire,

Pope.

"exact Racine" is merely a terse poetical equivalent for
" Racine's exactness." These two examples, therefore, are
rather examples of poetic terseness than of picturesqueness.
But in the following the epithet " green" seems to approxi-
mate more closely to a picturesque epithet :

A breath of unadulterate air,
The glimpse of a green pasture, how they cheer !

Coivper.

And in the following description of a winter sunrise, the
epithets are not merely ornamental. The first epithet
prepares the way for the second, and both these and the
third arc essential. On the whole, however, they are rather

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 61

essential for the picturesqueness than for the bare convey-
ing of the meaning :

His slanting ray-
Slides ineffectual down the snowy vale,
And tinging all with his own rosy hue,
From every herb and every spiry blade
Stretches a length of shadow o'er the field.

Coicper.

Here the epithet " slanting" indicates that the sun is as yet

low in the horizon, and explains why his ray is " ineffectual,"

and why the hue with which he tinges the landscape is rosy.

The sun being low, makes a distinct shadow of every herb,

and even of some of the blades of grass, but only of those

which shoot straight and spire-like up from the snow.

In the following examples the epithet prepares the way for

what follows :

The horse
That skims the spacious meadow at full speed.

Cowper.

Innocence, it seems,
From courts dismissed, found shelter in the groves.
The footsteps of simplicity impressed
Upon the yielding herbage (so they say)
Then were not all effaced.

Coicper.

43. Poetry is averse to lengthiness, and eupho-
nious.— This aversion to lengthiness manifests itself in two
ways : (a) in avoiding the use of conjunctions and relative
pronouns, and in substituting for phrases epithets which
may be called phrase epithets ; e.g., " animated canvas " for
" canvas which received life from the artist's pencil;'1 (b) in
using brief words in place of long, draggling, and common-
place words ; e.g., "gives he not ?" for " does he not give ? "

62 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

43 a. Poetry is averse to Relatives and Conjunc-
tions.— Instead of saying, " See that your arms are kept
well polished and primed," or " after being polished are
carefully primed," Cowper writes —

See that jour polished arms be primed with care.

He might have written, with almost equal brevity,
" polished and primed," but the excessive use of conjunc-
tions is avoided in poetry. Thus, and is omitted in

Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,
Hamlet.

which has perhaps been imitated by Milton in

Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved.

Paradise Lost.

The following is most remarkable and unusual :

So those two brothers with their murdered man
Rode past fair Florence •

Keats.

where murdered stands for " whom they intended to murder,"
" murdered in anticipation."

We may give the name of a phrase- epithet to words thus
used. There is a great variety in the uses to which a phrase-
epithet can be turned, and in the conjunctions for which it
can serve as a substitute. Thus —

(Though)

Even copious Dryden wanted, or forgot,
The last and greatest art, the art to blot ;

Pope.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 63

i.e., " Though he was copious,1 and had not the excuse of
barrenness."

(Though)

Forth goes the woodman, leaving unconcerned
The cheerful haunts of men ;

Cowper.

i.e., "unconcerned at leaving the haunts of men, cheerful
though they are."

(Because)

But Otway failed to polish or refine,

And fluent Shakspeare scarce effaced a line;

Pope.

i.e., " because of his fluency."

(Relative)

(He), his three years of heroship expired,
Returns indignant to the slighted plough ;

Cowper.

i.e., " to the plough which he had slighted."

The following is a good instance of the way in which Pope
expresses a long clause by means of an epithet, and at the
same time prepares the way for what is to come ;

(Relative)

Lely on animated canvas stole

The sleepy eye which spoke the melting soul ;

Pope.

i.e., the canvas which assumed life under his pencil.

So Milton :

From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve
Down dropp'd, and all the faded roses shed ;

Milton.

L " Copious" says Warburton in his note, "aggravated the fault. For
when a writer has great stores, he is inexcusable not to discharge the easy
task of choosing from the best."

64 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

i.e., "his hand slackened, and" or " from his hand which

slackened"

(Relative)

Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o'er the unbending corn, and skims along the main ;

Pope.

i.e., " which had not time to bend beneath her."

(When)

Proud vice to brand, or injur' d worth to adorn ;

Pope.

.e., " vice, when it is proud, worth when injured."

(Though, when)

But he who hurts a harmless neighbour's peace,
Insults fallen worth or beauty in distress;

Pope.

i.e., " a neighbour, though harmless — worth when fallen."

A great deal of the effect of Pope's couplets depends upon
the epithet by which he thus tersely describes some detail :

But when loud surges lash the sounding shore,
The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar.

Here sounding stands for " which resounds to the surges,''
and is at once a natural consequence of " loud," and pre-
paratory for "the hoarse, rough verse." If, instead of
sounding, we substitute sandy, or even rocky, we destroy the
beauty of the couplet.

Similarly, write walking or trotting for hounding, and you
convert into a parody the following :

And great Nassau to Kneller's hand decreed
To fix him graceful on the bounding steed ;

Pope.

where bounding at once enhances the "grace " of the rider

and the skill of the artist.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 65

The unusual epithets applied to youth and age have a very
striking and condensed meaning in the description of the
imperious and dreaded Atossa :

From loveless youth to unrespected age
No passion gratified except her rage ;

Pope.

i.e., " from a youth that was destitute of the peculiar virtue
of youth, love, to an old age that was destitute of the peculiar
privilege of old age, respect." By these two epithets Pope
implies that " even Atossa's youth was loveless, even her old
age unrespected."

In this, and in many other instances, the use of epithets is
suggested not only by the desire of picturesqueness, but also
by the dislike of lengthiness.

Poetic Compounds. — Hence poetry assumes a certain
license of inventing terse and euphonious compounds not
allowed in prose.

Like Teneriffe or Atlas, unremoved.

Milton.

The ahv ay s-icind-ob eying deep.

Shahspeare.

With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters.

lb.

The ne'er -yet -beat en horse of Parthia.

lb.

436. Poetry is averse to lengthy and com-
monplace Words. — This is a necessary consequence of
the /'passionate" nature of poetry. By this it is not
meant that poetry is averse to long words, where long
words are emphatic and sonorously appropriate. Thus —

66 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

The multitudinous sea incarnadine.

Shakspeare.

No longer I follow a sound,
No longer a dream I pursue ;
O happiness not to be found,
Unattainable treasure, Adieu !

Coivper.

But lengthiness, i.e., length without force, or even length for

the mere purpose of clearness, is avoided by poetry. As

little as possible is wasted on the mere framework of the

thought, the mechanism of grammatical expression, in order

to throw all the force on the thought itself. Hence

in adverbs, conjunctions, and other unemphatic words, there

is a tendency to use the shorter form where more forms than

one exist, even though the shorter form may be less clear

than the longer. Thus " unquestionably," though used by

Wordsworth, may almost be called inadmissible in poetry :

" questionless " or " doubtless " would be preferred. So we

find " scarce "for " scarcely," " altera " for " alternately,"

"vale" for "valley," "list" for "listen," "marge" for

" margin," (often used by Tennyson for " horizon,") "drear"

for " dreary." Some of these forms are archaic also, as

"ere" for "before," " doff'd " for " taken off," "pollute"

for " polluted," "whist" for " become silent." Hence the

constant use of the adjective for the adverb, as in —

The sower stalks
With measur'd step, and liberal throws the grain.

Thomson's Seaso?is.

For the same reason poetry dispenses with auxiliaries : —
Gives not the hawthorn bush as sweet a shade \
Long- die ihy happy days before thy death!

for " Does not the hawthorn bush givt ." and " May thy happy
days die"

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 67

43c. Euphony is a consideration as well as brevity.
Hence we not only find Erin for Ireland, and Edina for
Edinburgh, where brevity is in favour of the substitution,
but also Caledonia for Scotland. Often these euphonious
names have archaic associations beside euphony in their
favour, as in the case of Albion. The omission of the
possessive inflections is to be thus explained :

Betwixt Astrsea and the Scorpion sign.

Milton.

This is still more common in Shakspeare, where we have
" the Cyprus wars," " Verona walls," " Philippi fields,"
proper names being regularly used as adjectives.

Poetry often uses the simile where prose prefers metaphor.
This is not an exception to the rule of poetic brevity. Poetry,
aiming at pleasure, lingers over what gives pleasure as much
as it hurries over what does not. But in proportion as
poetry approximates to prose, metaphor is substituted for
simile. Hence in dramatic poetry the simile is comparatively
rare.

44. Exaggerations of Poetic Characteristics. — The

qualities of poetry enumerated above are sometimes found
in exaggerated forms. The archaic becomes pedantic and
affected; the picturesque, florid; brevity, obscurity; and
euphony, sound without sense. Thus (1) when Chapman uses
woodness for madness, telling us that the " compos'd rage " of
poetry is by many persons " held the simplest woodness"
he uses a word which had become quite antique, and which
being only fit for a joke,1 was unfit for serious poetry.

1 See Midsummer Night's Dream, ii. 1. 192; " Wood within this
wood," wood or mode being an archaic word for "mad."

68 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

Again (2) the accumulation of epithets (one or two of
which might be picturesque) joined with an ill-chosen metre
produces an almost comical effect in —

Dreadful gleams,

Dismal screams,

Fires that glow,

Scenes of woe,

Sullen moans,

Hollow groans,

And cries of tortured ghosts.

Pope's Ode on St. Cecilia* s Day.

(3) Obscurity is a common result of the poetic attempt at
brevity.

Thus,

Vouchsafe (to receive) good morrow irom a feeble tongue.

Julius Caesar, ii. 1. 313.

Instances might be multiplied from modern authors.

(4) The sacrifice of sense to sound is not uncommon
where rhyme is used, or where excessive alliteration is
aimed at. Many amusing parodies of this fault have been
written :

'Tis sweet to roam when morning's light

Resounds across the deep,
And the crystal song of the woodbine bright

Hushes the rocks to sleep ;
And the blood-red moon in the blaze of noon

Is bathed in a crumbling dew,
And the wolf rings out with a glittering shout,

To-whit, to-whit, to-whoo !

Anonymous.

Where is Cupid's crimson motion?

Billowy ecstasy of woe,
Bear me straight, meandering ocran,

Where the stagnant torrents flow.

Rejected Addr

THE DICTION OF POETEY. 69

45. Different styles of Poetry. — Hitherto we have
been describing the characteristics of the diction of poetry
in general. We now come to the consideration of the
different styles in poetry. The poetry of Milton's " Paradise
Lost," or of Gray's "Bard," will naturally adopt a higher
style than would be fit for Waller's " Rose " or Herrick's
"Daffodils." Again, the graceful style that might be suitable
for a love-song or a pastoral poem would be inappropriate
in the drama, where force and lifelike vigour are primary
requisites. Lastly, in quiet poems of simple narrative, where
there are no speakers or scenery to set off the words, the
forcible style of the drama might interfere with the unity of
the poem, by attracting to the words the interest that should
be concentrated on the narrative ; and here a simple style
may be desirable. Thus poetic style may be roughly divided
into (1) the elevated, (2) the graceful, (3) the forcible, (4)
the simple.

One instance of each will be given, illustrating the style,
not the subject.

(1) Elevated, avoiding everything that is colloquial and
suggestive of littleness.

The description of a wound might easily be made forcible,
and the description of the healing might easily become col-
loquial and commonplace ; but both are elevated in

Then Satan first knew pain,
And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore
The griding sword with discontinuous wound
Pass'd through him : but the ethereal substance closed,
Not long divisible ; and from the gash
A stream of nectareous humour flowed
Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed,
And all his armour stain'd, ere while so bright.

P. L. vi.

70 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

(2) Graceful^ avoiding nothing that is familiar, so
long as it is not unpleasing. The following might easily
become unpleasingly forcible :

(a) A rogue in grain
Veneered with sanctimonious theory.

Tennyson, The Princess,

(b) Eight daughters of the plough, stronger than men,
Huge women blowsed with health, and wind, and rain,
And labour; lb.

where bloicsy would have been ungraceful.

(3) Forcible, avoiding nothing but what is tame.

This painted child of dirt, that stinks and sings.

Pope,

(4) The Simple is very commonly used in Wordsworth

and Tennyson to express intense pathos :

They two
Were brother shepherds on their native hills.
They were the last of all their race : and now,
When Leonard had approached his home, his heart
Failed in him ; and, not venturing to inquire
Tidings of one so long and dearly loved,
He to the solitary churchyard turned ;
That, as he knew in what particular spot
His family were laid, he there might learn
If still his brother lived, or to the rile
Another grave was added. — He had found
Another grave, — near which a full half-hour
He had remained ; but, as he gazed, there grew
Such a confusion in his memory
That he began to doubt ; and even to hope
That he had seen this heap of turf before, —
That it was not another grave, but one
He had forgotten.

Wordsicorth, The Brothers.

46- The Elevated Style of Poetry is well exemplified
by Milton's Paradise Lost. It differs from the graceful style

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 71

(1) in that it admits painful and even disgusting images, and
t differs from the forcible (2) in that it rejects many common
expressions which, though they represent the meaning, re-
present it in a familiar manner.

(1) The following description could find no place in grace-
ful poetry : —

All maladies
Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms
Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds,
Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs,
Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs,
Demoniac phrensy, moping melancholy
And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy,
Marasmus, and wide-wasting pestilence,
Dropsies and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums.

Milton, P. L. xi.

Note here that any common name for a disease, however
fatal, would, if inserted, interfere with the effect of elevation.
" Heart-disease," " softening of the brain," " smallpox," are
serious enough, but the names would be too familiar for
here, even if those names were known to Milton.

(2) Again, in the Allegro, Milton is not afraid to say —

She was pinched and pull'd, she said ;
And he by friar's lantern led.

But in the Paradise Lost the familiar name " friar's lantern "
is avoided, and a periphrasis is substituted :

As when a wandering fire,
Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night
Condenses, and the cold environs round,
Kindled through agitation to a flame,
Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends,
Hovering and blazing with delusive light,
Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his wav.

72 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

The following are remarkable exceptions to the elevated
style generally preserved in the " Paradise Lost " :

(a) Though with them better pleased
Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume

That drove him, though enamour 'd, from the spouse
Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent
From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound.

(b) Or as a thief, bent to unhoard the cash

Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors
Cross -barr'd and bolted fast fear no assault,
In at the window climbs or o'er the tiles.

47. Dangers of Elevated Poetry: Grotesqueness —

The admission of familiar and trivial words, or images, into
elevated poetry produces an effect that may be called gro-
tesque.

The following is a good instance :

Hast thou not heard
That haughty Spain's pope-consecrated fleet
Advances to our shores, and England's fate
Like a clipp'd guinea trembles in the scale ?

The Critic.

48. Dangers of Elevated Poetry: Bombast.— An

excess in the use of elevated language is a fault, and may be
called bombast.

(a) Sometimes it is the language that is bombastic. The
thought is reasonable enough, but expressed in absurdly
elevated language, as :

You know, my friend, scarce two revolving suns
And three revolving moons have closed their course
Since haughty Philip in despite of peace,

With hostile hand hath struck at England's trade.

The Critic.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 73

where " two years or little more " would have been the
natural expression.

(b) Sometimes the thought itself is unnaturally excessive,
and expressed in corresponding language, as when a lover
calls the miniature of his mistress

The moon's extinguisher, the noon-day's night.

Quoted in the Key to The Rehearsal.

A hemisphere of evil planets reign !

The Critic.

And the following, unless justified by extreme passion,
would approach bombast :

All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes,

That I being governed by the wat'ry moon

May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world.

Richard III.

Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach
Filip the stars, then let the mutinous winds "
Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun.

Coriolanus.

94. Tameness and Bathos.— The deficiency of eleva-
tion is tameness. Perhaps the following, which approaches to
prose, may be an instance :

Arms, through the vanity and brainle&s rage
Of those that bear them in whatever cause,
Seem most at variance with all moral good,
And incompatible with serious thought.

Cowper.

Tameness, when found at the end of a piece of elevated
poetry, often gives us a ludicrous sense of a sudden drop to
a low from a high level. Thus

74 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

When I count o'er yon glittering lines
Of crested warriors, where the proud steed's neigh,
And valour-breathing trumpet's shrill appeal,
Responsive vibrate on my listening ear,

*****

I cannot but surmise— forgive, my friend,
If the conjecture's rash — I cannot but
Surmise the state some danger apprehends.

The Critic.

This depression or sinking is often called bathos, and is of
course possible in forcible as well as in elevated poetry:

Grac'd as thou art with all the power of words,
So known, so honour'd at the House of Lords ;

Pope.

which was thus parodied by Cibber :

Persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks,
And he has chambers in the King's Bench walks.

50. Misapplication of Elevated Style. — The elevated
style has often been misapplied to subjects that do not require
it. It is a dangerous style to handle. The genius of a Milton
is required to prevent any long poem in the elevated style from
becoming wearisome, and at times bombastic. By its nature,
avoiding familiar words, merely because they are familiar, it
is altogether unfit for simple narrative. For example, an Eng-
lish translation of the story of the adventures of Ulysses would
require almost always the graceful style, very seldom the
elevated. But, during the eighteenth century, the distinction
between the graceful style which rejects unpleasing and
vulgar words, and the elevated style which rejects familiar and
petty words, was forgotten. Serious poetry of all kinds, so
argued the poets of the time, ought to reject such common
terms as man, woman, cup, wine, bed, coat, and to adopt in their

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 75

stead, less ignoble terms, such as sivain, fair, goblet, purple
tide, alcove, vest, etc.

The Elizabethan dramatists had preferred to use the
plainest and most familiar words, even to coarseness, in
which they could express their meaning ; the poets of the
eighteenth century, on the other hand, limited their choice
to such words as were unfamiliar. Thus the range of their
language was unnaturally narrowed. Shakspeare and Ben
Jonson had at their command the poetic vocabulary in
addition to the ordinary language of conversation ; Pope in
his Odyssey uses only the strictly poetic vocabulary. In
satire and lighter poetry, the forcible and the graceful styles
still survived ; but the serious poetry of this age, hampered
by these conventional restrictions, became stilted and un-
natural in the extreme. The following examples of this con-
ventional bombast are taken from Pope's " Odyssey." The
original is, " The swine-herd tucked up his coat, and ran
out of doors ; " Pope writes :

His vest succinct then girding round his waia
Forth rushed the swain in hospitable haste.

Then the killing of two pigs for dinner is described thus :

Of two (pigs) his cutlass launch' d the spurting blood.

Then

Silent and thoughtful while the board he ey'd,
Emaeus pours on high the purple tide;

where the original is " he filled and handed him a cup."
Again, instead of "he went to his chamber to lie down,"
Pope has, —

His bright alcove the obsequious youth ascends.
51. The Graceful Style, though it does not, like the

76 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

elevated style, reject familiar words, rejects all words and
images that are disgusting, or coarse, or in any way unpleas-
ing. Thus in Tennyson's " Lord of Burleigh," such common
words as handsome, domestic, are not out of place. But
instead of landscape painter, in

He is but a landscape painter,
And a village maiden she,

if we were to substitute " young pork-butcher '," " undertaker,"
" haberdasher," or perhaps even " land-surveyor," or " coun-
try doctor," the effect of the poem would be injured, if not
destroyed. The difference between the graceful and the
forcible style may be seen by comparing the light and half-
playful touch in, —

And one

Discussed his tutor, rough to common men,

But honeying at the whisper of a lord,

The Princess.

with the straightforward attack in

When servile chaplains cry that birth and place
Endue a Peer with honour, truth, and grace,

Look in that breast, most dirty D ! be fair,

Say can you find out ope such lodger there ?

Pope.

Note how in the following passage, a colloquial and some-
what ungraceful name for a flower is not introduced without
some kind of preparation. It is the description of the death
of Ophelia, —

There with fantastic garlands did she come

Of corn flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,

But our cold maids do dead men's Jin gas call them.

Hamlet, iv. 7. 17*2.

Here the quaintness of the flowers is essential to describe

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 77

the " fantastic " nature of the garland : but if " dead men's
fingers " had headed the list of flowers, without any prepara-
tion, the effect would have been seriously injured. Contrast
the above with the intentionally comical effect of the abrupt
introduction of the names of flowers with ungraceful epithets

in the following :

Darkness is fled,
Now flowers unfold their beauties to the sun,
And blushing kiss the beam he sends to wake them ;
The striped carnation and the guarded rose,
The vulgar wall-flower, neat gilly-flower,
The polyanthus mean, the dapper daisy,
Sweet-william and sweet marjoram and all
The tribe of single and of double pinks.

The Critic.

The poems of Tennyson present, perhaps, the most fault-
less specimens of the graceful style, — a style that can describe
anything, however familiar, so long as it does not suggest
anything ungraceful. Thus, in the " Miller's Daughter,"
the poet does not avoid describing the miller, and

His double chin, his portly size,

or the quiet conversation after dinner,

Across the walnut and the wine,

and yet throughout the poem there is not the slightest jar to
break the sense of continuous gracefulness. That this is not
effected without great care, may be seen from comparing the
first edition of the poem with later editions. Originally it
was a water-rat whose splash in the water was followed by
the appearance of the " Miller's Daughter," reflected in the
stream, —

A water-rat from off the bank
Plunged in the stream.

78 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

It seems to have been felt that this image a little marred
the general level of quiet grace and beauty in the poem, and
it was therefore altered to

Then leapt a trout. In lazy mood

I watch'd. the little circles die ;
They passed into the level flood,

And there a vision caught my eye.

Two other alterations of the same poem illustrate the
delicacy with which language can so be handled as to pre-
serve by an art imperceptible to a careless reader, the level
of gracefulness. The epithet u gummy," applied to " ches-
nuts," has been erased in the eighth stanza, and the some-
what gloomy description of the upper pool —

How dear to me in youth, my love,

Was everything about the mill j
The black and silent pool above,

The pool beneath that ne'er stood still.

was altered into the more cheerful and detailed description
that follows :

I loved the brimming wave that swam

Thro' quiet meadows round the mill,
The sleepy pool above the dam,

The pool beneath it never still.

52. Dangers of the Graceful Style: Pedantry, Con-
ventionalism,—The excess of the graceful stylo, leads to
the fault of rejecting, not merely words that are ungrace-
ful, but also words that are familiar. It thus trespasses upon
the elevated. Instances of this fault have been given above,
and many other instances might be gathered from Thomson's
<< Seasons."

THE DICTION OF POETKY. 79

(a) His sportive lambs
This way and that convolv'd l in friskful glee
Their frolics play.

(b) The rustic youth, brown with meridian toil.

(d) Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans.

This proneness to use an unfamiliar and Latin word instead
of a familiar English one, may be called 'pedantry ; but in
other cases, the aversion to familiar words such as man and
woman, and the preference of unfamiliar words such as su'flm,
and fair, would be called conventionalism.

Even Cowper and "Wordsworth sometimes err in this
direction. Convey is more unfamiliar than bring ; but is not
appropriate to express the action of handing a rose to a
friend, —

The rose had been wash'd, just wash'd in a shower,
Which Mary to Anna convey' d ;

Coicper.

and " prominent feature" is not a graceful periphrasis for

nose in

Mark him of shoulders curved, of stature tall,
Black hair and vivid eye and meagre cheek,
His prominent feature like an eagle's beak.

Wordsworth.

53. The Deficiency of Gracefulness is often more
easily felt than pointed out. It is seldom that a palpably
ungraceful word is admitted, except in a parody, as —

1 The word is more suitably used to describe the writhing of Satan
wounded :

Then Satan first knew pain,

And writhed him to and fro convolved.

Paradise Lost.

80 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

For dear is the emerald isle of the ocean
Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave.

Whose sons, unaccustomed to rebel commotion
Tho' joyous, are sober, tho' peaceful, are brave.

The shamrock their olive, sworn foe to a quarrel
Protects from the thunder and lightning of rows ,

The sprig of shillelagh is nothing but laurel,
Which flourishes rapidlv over their brows.

It ejected Addresses.

Lead us to some sunny isle,

Yonder o'er the western deep,
Where the skies for ever smile,

And the blacks for ever weep.

Quoted from Thackeray.

More often the deficiency appears in a want of that ex-
quisiteness in the choice of words which is a characteristic of
the highest kind of graceful poetry. By such a want the
general result is injured ; but no particular word or line can
be made responsible for the fault.

Perhaps the following passage, without being extremely
faulty, is not free from this fault :

But now and then with pressure of his thumb
To adjust the fragrant charge of a short tube
That fumes beneath his nose.

Coivper.

54. The Forcible Style is well exemplified by the Eliza-
bethan dramatists. No words are rejected by them that
express the meaning with clearness and force, —

(a) Covering discretion with a coat of folly,

As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots
That shall first spring and be most delicate.

Henry V.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 81

(b) Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow
Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat
The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon.

Henry V.

(c) Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggar' d host,
And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps :
The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks

With torch-staves in their hand : and their poor jades
Lob down their heads, dropping the hides and hips,
The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes,
And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit
Lies foul with chewed grass, still and motionless.

lb.

In this last passage, ungraceful and offensive words are
studiously selected as appropriate for the boaster who exults
in the prospect of a victory over a dejected enemy. Many
passages of Pope furnish examples of this style :

Yet let me flap this bug with gilded wings,
This painted child of dirt that stinks and sings :
Whose buzz the witty and the fair annoys,
Yet wit ne'er tastes, and beauty ne'er enjoys :
So well-bred spaniels civilly delight
In mumbling of the game they dare not bite.

55. Dangers of the Forcible Style: Coarseness.—

This passage from Pope points out the danger of coarseness
to which the forcible style is peculiarly liable. The first two
lines are so unpleasant, that they can scarcely be tolerated
even in satire. Many passages in which force has degene-
rated into coarseness, might also be quoted from Shakspeare's

plays :

And then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him,
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
And pick strong matter of revolt and icrath
Out of the bloody finger 's ends of John.

King John.

82 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

But it is very difficult to say how far the coarseness is in-
tentional, meant to express the natural disposition, or the
intense passion of the speaker, and not at all characteristic
of the dramatist. Thus, it would be wrong to criticize
the language when the ecstasy of a mother's grief makes
Constance cry, —

Death ! death ! 0 amiable lovely death,

Thou odoriferous stench ! sound rottenness !

Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,

Thou hate and terror to prosperity,

And I will kiss thy detestable bones,

And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows,

And ring these fingers with thy household worms,

And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,

And be a carrion monster like thyself ;

Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest,

And buss thee as thy wife.

K. John, iii. 4. 25—35.

And perhaps a similar explanation may justify the follow-
ing address of the Queen to Kichard II. :

Thou mass of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodged in thee,
"When triumph is become an alehouse guest !

Yet the following passage, justifiable itself, shows the possi-
bility of erring in the direction of coarseness :

Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
And, in defpite, I'll cram thee with more food,

here, here will I remain

With worms that are thy chambermaids.

Borneo and Juliet.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 83

And again in the following :

First the fair reverence of your highness curbs me
From giving reins and spurs to my free speech :
Which else would post, until it had returned
These terms of treason doubled down his throat.

Richard II.

With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat.

lb.

Ere my tongue
Shall wound my honour with such feeble using.
Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
The slavish motive of recanting fear,
And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.

lb.

the expressions are most appropriate for two furious com-
batants, one or both conscious of guilt ; but in themselves
they are exaggerated as well as unpleasing, and exceed the
usual limit of the forcible style.

The forcible and graceful style are combined in the songs
of the Elizabethan dramatists, and the Elizabethan poetry
generally. Shakspeare's Sonnets, although always forcible,
and often using the most familiar words and images, are, for
the most part, graceful also :

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair,
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.

Sonnet 70.

The occasional violence and coarseness of the forcible style
led to a reaction in favour of urbanity. This finally degene-
rated into the conventional style common in the eighteenth
century, and described above. But the gulf between the

84 THE DICTION OF POETRY.

forcible and conventional is bridged by Dryden, who, in a

most happy manner combines grace and force :

When I consider life, 'tis all a cheat :
Yet fool'd with hope men favour the deceit,
Trust on, and hope to-morrow will repay :
To-morrow's falser than the former day,
Lies worse ; and when it says we shall be blest
With some new joys, cuts off what we possessed.
Strange cozenage ! none would live past days again,
Yet all hope pleasure from what yet remain,
And from the dregs of life hope to receive
What the first sprightly runnings could not give.
I'm tired of waiting for this chymic gold
That fools us young, and beggars us when old.

Dryden.

56. The Want of Force, like the want of grace, is not
a fault that can often be localized in any particular words or
expressions. Tameness or weakness arises from a general
inability to use language rightly, and often from the ignorance
of the exact meanings and distinctions of words, and hence
a preference for the vaguest words, as most likely to cover
ignorance. Sententious tameness is exemplified by the fol-
lowing parody of Crabbe : —

John Richard William Alexander Dwyer
Was footman to Justinian Stubbs, Esquire ;
But when John Dwyer listed in the Blues,
Emanuel Jennings polish'd Stubbs's shoes.
Emanuel Jennings brought his youngest boy
Up as a corn-cutter — a safe employ, etc.

Rejected Addn

In the poetry of Crabbe himself the following lines are

found —

Something had happen'd wrong about a bill
Which was not drawn witli true mercantile skill;
So, to amend it, I was told to go
And seek the firm of Clutterbuck and Co.

THE DICTION OF POETRY. 85

57. The Simple Style is common in ballads. It is
used in narrative, where the story is the principal considera-
tion, and the words require to be especially clear and simple.
Most of the old ballads are speeches, with descriptive pas-
sages interspersed. But the utterances of the speakers are
generally expressed in a less forcible style than that used
by the Elizabethan dramatists. The short and simple metre
would in itself be an obstacle in the way of using many
words common in Shakspeare. The ballad was intended to
be sung, readily understood, and easily remembered. Each
of these considerations tended to make simplicity a necessity.
Hence the epithets are often of the simplest nature, and
so often attached to their several nouns as almost to form
part of a compound noun. Thus " red gold," " bright
sword," " lady fair," " the bold Buccleuch," are almost as
inseparable as " the green-wood," 6t my merry-men." Words-
worth and Tennyson have written poems which, though not
ballads, nor in the ballad-metre, are so studiously simple
that they may fairly be ranked under this division. Dora is
an example :

And Dora took the child, and went her way
Across the wheat, and sat upon a mound
That was unsown, where many poppies grew.

58, Danger of the Simple Style : Childishness. — An

affected excess of simplicity, narrating details that are not
worth narrating, has been parodied in the following imitation
of Wordsworth :

Well, after many a sad reproach
They got into a hackney coach
And trotted down the street.

86 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

I saw them go ; one horse was blind,
The tails of both hung down behind,
Their shoes were on their feet.

Rejected Addresses.

The deficiency of simplicity is pedantry or conventionalism,
and has been sufficiently exemplified above.

CHAPTER II.

THE DICTION OF PROSE.

59, The Diction of Prose, — It is very natural that
those who are beginning to write prose on subjects with
which they are not familiar, and about which they have not
thought and spoken much, should fall into the elevated or
graceful diction of poetry. They naturally choose the
diction that seems to them least likely to be vulgar and
most remote from common life, and, as they are generally
better acquainted with the best poetry than with the best
prose of the language, they have recourse to the former. But
poetic diction without metre is, even in impassioned prose,
very likely to be distasteful, and in ordinary prose, written
for the purpose of giving information, it is offensive. AYe
have not the leisure, in ordinary prose, to attend to the pictu-
resqueness and euphony of words or the rhythm of sentences ;
and the attempt to arrest our attention and divert it to such
superfluities, offends instead of pleasing. Thus, Albion would
be in place in poetry, but out of place in prose. The
Emerald Isle is fitly and effectively used in Moore's songs,
but when an author writes "Parliament, during this session,
was mainly occupied with the Emerald Isle" the sudden

THE DICTION OF PROSE. 87

transition from the business-like debates of a deliberative
assembly to a fairy-like scene of verdant beauty, such as is
conjured up by this picturesque title, is not only not pleasing,
it is displeasing.

Beginners must therefore bear in mind that when they
have to write about a subject of somewhat elevated character,
as, for instance, about the passage of the Kubicon by Julius
Caesar, it is not necessary or in good taste at once to begin
to use steed or charger, instead of being content that the great
usurper should merely " spur his horse" across the river. The
short and archaic forms, as well as the peculiar words of
poetry, are to be avoided. Ere must not be written for
before, nor scarce for scarcely, nor vale for valley, and the like.

Are we then in no circumstances to use poetic diction in
prose ? Could no context whatever justify the use, for
instance, of The Emerald Isle or of Albion ? Yes, we may
use the picturesque diction where the picturesqueness is a
part of the information which we desire to give. Thus —
" Accustomed to the arid and barren deserts of Arabia, the
eye of the returning soldier rested with pleasure upon the
rich bright vegetation of the Emerald Isle," or, " Driven
backward by a violent wind, the invaders had the pain of
seeing the white cliffs of Albion lessen in the distance,
unreached and unconquered."

But scarcely any circumstances would justify, in a
beginner, the use of poetic words such as ivoe,1 thrall, ire,
vale, ere, scarce, etc. For these have other prose equivalents;
they are connected by usage and association with metre, and
are employed, not for picturesqueness, but for euphony.

1 Woe is used in a well-known passage of Burke, influenced by Biblical
diction : " Then ensued a scene of woe, the like of which no eye had seen,
no heart conceived."

88 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

The same rule will apply to the use of epithets in prose.
They must not be used as in the ballad style without any
purpose of giving information, and merely for picturesque-
ness. You could not write in prose " He was sitting in
the green wood," or " He drew his bright sword," unless
the context made the epithets necessary, as in " Laugh-
ing at the peasant's extemporized weapon, the soldier drew
his own bright sword," where the epithet would indicate the
habitual use of the sword and the soldier's readiness for
fight, in contrast to the peasant's unreadiness.

60, Impassioned Prose. — There is a beautiful prose
(dangerous to imitate) which resembles poetry in having a
perceptible rhythm, and now and then borrows poetic brevity
and forms poetic compounds, e.g., daisied, sun-filled, while
yet it never trespasses on the poetic vocabulary :

" The boat reappeared, but brother and sister had gone down
in an embrace never to be parted ; living through again, in one
supreme moment, the days when they had clasped their little
hands in love, and roamed the daisied fields together. }> — George Eliot.

In the following the rhythm is perceptible and singularly
fascinating, though the law of rhythm cannot be detected :

" I at least hardly ever look at a bent old man or a wizened old
woman, but I see also with my mind's eye that Past of which
they are the shrunken remnant ; and the unfinished romance of
rosy cheeks and bright eyes seems sometimes of feeble interest
and significance, compared with that drama of hope and love
which has long ago reached its catastrophe, and left the poor
soul like a dim and dusty stage, with all its sweet garden-scenes
and fair perspectives, overturned and thrust out of Bight." — lb.

In the following, the omission of the conjunctions in the
third and fourth lines suggests the brevity of poetry, and in

THE DICTION OF PROSE. 89

the middle of the passage there are rhythmical short sentences,
with three or four accents each, which approach to verses :

" Blessed influence of one true loving human soul on another !
Not calculable by algebra, not deducible by logic, but mysteri-
ous, effectual, mighty, as the hidden process by which the
tiny seed is quickened and bursts forth into tall stem and
broad leaf and groiving tasselled floiver. Ideas are often poor
ghosts, our sun-filled eyes cannot discern them ; they pass
athwart us in thin vapour, and cannot make themselves felt.
But sometimes they are made flesh : they breathe upon us with
warm breath, they touch us with soft responsive hands, they
look at us with sad sincere eyes, and speak to us in appealing
tones, — they are clothed in a living soul with all its conflicts, its
faith, and its love. Then their presence is a power." — George
Eliot.

The omission of the article may be noticed also in the
following :

" The temptations of beauty are much dwelt upon, but I fancy
they only bear the same relation to those of ugliness, as the
temptation to excess at a feast, where the delights are varied
for eye and ear as well as palate, bears to the temptations that
assail the desperation of hunger." — lb.

In prose like this, the use of simile for metaphor is allow-
able, and is introduced with exquisite effect, together with a
certain transposition of the words for emphasis, in —

"But Catarina moved through all this joy and beauty like a
poor wounded leveret, painfully dragging its little body through
the sweet clover tufts — for it, sweet in vain." — lb.

Or again, an emphatic position may be given to some
detail. in a description which would be quite unwarranted
in ordinary prose, but which adds greatly to the picturesque-
ness, besides superadding a subtle rhythmical effect :

90 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

"But good society, floated on gossamer wings of light irony, is
of very expensive production, requiring nothing less than a wide
and arduous national life, condensed in unfragrant, deafening
factories, cramping itself in mines, sweating at furnaces, grinding,
hammering, weaving under more or less oppression of carbonic
acid — or else spread over sheep-walks and scattered in lonely
houses and huts in the clayey or chalky corn lands, where the
rainy days look dreary." — George Eliot.

The rhythm of the last part of the passage just quoted
approaches too near to the form of lyrical poetry to be al-
lowable in a speech, or historical treatise. But it will be
observed that in all the above passages, as well as in those
that follow, the vocabulary of prose is strictly observed.
Different rhythms are suitable for different subjects, and
seem natural to different authors ; but, even in the highest
flight of fancy, and under the influence of the strongest pas-
sion, the best prose-writers l use the diction of prose, and not
that of poetry. Exceptions are rare, even in archaic prose :

" Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation
rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her
invincible locks : methinks I see her as an eagle muing 2 her mighty
youth, and kindling her undazzVd eyes at the full midday
beam, purging and unsealing her long abused sight at the
fountain itself of heav'nly radiance, while the whole noise of
timorous and flocking birds, with those also that love the
twilight, flutter about, amaz'd at what she means, and in their
envious gabble would prognosticate a year of sects and schisms."
— Milton, u Areopagitica."

It might be expected that in the earlier prose-writers of
the language the distinction between prose and poetic diction

1 Exceptions will be noted hereafter.

2 Milton's spelling of the word.

3 Probably not recognized then as poetic.

THE DICTION OF PEOSE. 91

should not be established. Methinks was common in the
prose of Milton's time, and muing was a common term in
falconry. Note the repetition " Methinks I see," which is
common in impassioned prose, and is exemplified in the
following passage :

" It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the
Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles : and
surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to
touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the
horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just
began to move in, — glittering like the morning-star, full of life,
and splendour, and joy. Oh, what a revolution ! and what a
heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that eleva-
tion and that fall ! Little did I dream when she added titles
of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant love, that she
should (sic) ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against
disgrace concealed in that bosom ; little did I dream that I should
have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of
gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I
thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their
scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult.
But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists,
and calculators has succeeded, and the glory of Europe is
extinguished for ever. Never, never more shall we behold that
generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that
dignified obedience, and that subordination of the heart, which
kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted
freedom." — Burke.

If anywhere, poetic diction might be expected in the
following passage. But though the rhythm is almost metre,
there is no trace (except perhaps in the noun sighing) of the
poetic diction :

" For so have I seen a lark rising from his bed of grass, || and

92 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

soaring upwards, singing as he rises, \\ and (he) hopes to get to
heaven and climb above the clouds ;\\ but the poor bird was
beaten back || with the loud sighings of an eastern wind,, || and his
motion made irregular and inconstant, descending more at
every breath of the tempest than it could recover by the libra-
tion and frequent weighing of his wings ; till the little creature
was forced to sit down and pant, and stay till the storm was
over ; and then it made a prosperous flight, and did rise and
sing as if it had learned music and motion from an angel as he
passed sometimes through the air about his ministries here
below : so is the prayer of a good man." — Jeremy Taylor.

The same remark applies to the following :

" Let us watch him (man) with reverence || as he sets side by
side the burning gems, || and smooths with soft sculpture the
jasper pillars, that are to reflect a ceaseless sunshine, and rise
into a cloudless sky : but not with less reverence let us stand
by him when, with rough strength and hurried stroke, he smites
an uncouth animation out of the rocks which he has torn from
among the moss of the moorland, and heaves into the darkened
air the pile of iron buttress and rugged wall, instinct with work
of an imagination || as wild and wayward as the northern sea :
|| creations of ungainly shape and rigid limb, but full of wolfish
life : fierce as the winds that beat, and changeful as the clouds
that shade them." — Buskin.

Even in the description of St. Mark's at Venice, a passage
in which prose soars far above its usual pitch, only a few
forms (not words) can be found peculiar to poetic diction :

" And in the midst of it the solemn forms of angels, sceptn d
and robed to the feet, and leaning to each other across the
gates, their figures indistinct among the gleaming of the golden
ground through the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim
like the morning light as it faded back among the branches of
Eden, when first its gates were angel-guarded long ago." — lb.

1 The expression " smites the rock" seems suggested by Biblical diction.

THE DICTION OF PKOSE. 93

Here, though faded is of course common in prose diction,
yet the condensed expression " faded back " is poetical.

The following is a very close approximation to poetic
rhythm, and at the close the author seems to find poetry
necessary as a vent for the impassioned sentiment. Yet,
with the exception, perhaps, of untimely, used as an adverb,
the diction is that of pure prose. It is the conclusion of a
description of the last days of George III. :

" What preacher need moralize on this story 1 What words
save the simplest are requisite to tell if? It is too terrible
for tears. The thought of such a misery smites me down in
submission before the Ruler of kings and men, the Monarch
Supreme over empires and republics, the inscrutable Dispenser
of life, death, happiness, victory. ' O brothers ! ' I said
to those who heard me first in America, ' O brothers ! speak-
ing the same dear mother-tongue ; O comrades ! enemies no
more, let us take a mournful hand together as we stand by this
royal corpse and call a truce to battle ! Low (transposition) he
lies, to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who was
cast lower than the poorest ; dead whom millions prayed for in
vain. Driven off his throne ; buffeted by rude hands ; with
his children in revolt ; the darling of his old age killed before
him untimely,1 our Lear hangs over her breathless lips, and
cries, ' Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little ! '

Vex not his ghost — oh ! let him pass— he hates him
That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.

Hush ! strife and quarrel, over the solemn grave. Sound, trum-
pets, a mournful march. Fall, dark curtain, upon his pageant, ||
his pride, | his grief, | his aw|ful tr£g|edy." — Thackeray.

It should be stated with reference to the use of save as a

1 " Killed before him before her time," would he intolerably harsh.

94 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

preposition, smite, and buffeted, that the authorised version
of the Bible has exercised a great influence upon the stand-
ard of prose. The solemn tone of submission before the
decrees of God insensibly causes the diction to assume a
Biblical hue. Hence the use of save, for which except might
have been substituted. Smite, however, could not be re-
placed by strike, for the divine origin of the blow would not
be expressed ; nor could beaten express the author's meaning
so well as buffeted, which suggests the deepest and most un-
deserved humiliation. In discourses and treatises on re-
ligious subjects, the Biblical phraseology is sanctioned by
custom, and is freely used — perhaps too freely ; for the use
of antique religious phraseology, except where the thought is
impassioned, tends to give a sense of unreality to the words,
and is liable to degenerate into what is called cant. Not
even in this impassioned style does Thackeray venture to use
brethren for brothers. Smite expresses a meaning that strike
does not : brethren would only have differed from brothers by
being less real.

Before quitting this very important subject it will be well
to give an example of poetic prose which has passed the
border-land between prose and poetry, and which in its ex-
cessive transpositions, its ambitious attempts at perceptible
rhythm, and its occasional use of poetic words, presents a
good specimen of a style that ought to be most carefully
avoided :

"The whole school were in ecstasies to hear tales and stories
from his genius ; even like a flock of birds, chirping in their
joy, || all new|ly alight|ed 6n | a vern|al hind. || In spite of
that difference in our age — or oh ! say rather because that
difference did touch the one heart with tenderness and the
other with reverence ; how often did we two wander, like elder

THE DICTION OF PROSE. 95

and younger brother, in || the siin|light and | the moon|light
solijtiides ! || Woods into whose inmost recesses we should
have quaked | alone | to pen|etrate, || in his company were
glad as gardens, through their most awful umbrage ; and there
was beauty in the shadows of the old oaks. Cataracts, in whose
lonesome thunder, as it pealed into those pitchy pools, (excessive
alliteration) || we diirst | not by | ourselves | have faced | the
spray, || — in his presence, || tinned with j a merrjy mii|sic
in | the cZesert (excessive alliteration) and cheerful was (un-
necessary transposition) the thin mist they cast sparkling up
into the air. Too severe for our uncompanied spirit, then easily
overcome with awe, ivas (inexcusable transposition) the solitude
of those remote inland locks. But as || we acalked ] with him
[ along | the | u-indjing shores, || how pass||ing sweet I the
calm | of both | blue depths || — how magnificent the white-
crested waves, tumbling beneath the black thunder-cloud !
More beautiful, (inexcusable transposition and omission of verb)
because our eyes gazed on it along with his, at the beginning or
ending of some sudden storm, the apparition of the rainbow." —
Wilson.

Among other faults in this passage, the excessive allitera-
tion is a prominent one. The double alliteration of

Dinned with | a merr|y miisijc in | the desert,
is intolerable, except in the metre of poetry ; and elsewhere
the excess, though concealed from the eye, is obvious to the
ear, as in " cMrping in their joy, all newZy aZighted in a ver-
naZ Zand," Alliteration was from the earliest times noticed
by the English ear. By itself, without rhyme, it was once
sufficient to constitute poetry. It will be seen hereafter that
the early English poetry recognised two accented and allite-
rated'initial syllables (and all vowels were considered identi-
cal for the purpose of alliteration) to denote a verse. This
may explain why an excess of alliteration in prose is pecu-

.96 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

liarly offensive. Ruskin, in the passage quoted above, writes,
" among the gleaning of the golden ground ; " but it is the
combination of poetic characteristics in excess that renders
the poetic prose of the last quoted passage objectionable.
The worst fault of all is the use of poetic words — quaked,
lonesome, umbrage, and even for " just."

61. Exceptional Poetic Prose. — It has been shown
that, as a rule, the master-writers of impassioned Prose in
the English language preserve the distinction between the
diction of Prose and Poetry. Most students will do well to
preserve the same distinction. But there are specimens of
prose which {a) in rhythm, (b) in icords, approximate to
poetry, and are nevertheless approved, some by the popular,
some even by the most cultivated taste, (a) The impas-
sioned descriptive prose of Dickens is almost written in
metre, as well as with poetic words. (b) The prose of
Lamb, Coleridge, and writers formed in his school, such as
Hazlitt, and De Quincey, sometimes employs poetic words;
and the first two, at least, are thought to be classical writers
of English prose :

(a) The earth covered with a sable pall,

1 As for the burial of yesterday ;
The clumps of dark trees

2 Its giant plumes of funeral feathers
2 Waving sadly to and fro :

1 All hushed, all noiseless and in deep repose,

1 Save the swift clouds that shun across the moon,

And the cautious wind,
1 As creeping after them upon the ground
1 It stops to listen, and goes rustling on,

And stops again, and follows, like a savage

On the trail.

Dickens.

THE DICTION OF PBOSE. 97

Here all the verses marked 1 are strict dramatic blank
verse, while the couplet marked 2 has a decided trochaic
effect.

(b) "Nothing-plotting, nought-caballing, unmischievous synod !
Convocation without intrigue ! parliament without debate ! what
a lesson dost thou read to council and consistory ! If my pen
treat of you lightly — as haply it will wander — yet my spirit hath
gravely felt the wisdom of your custom, when, sitting among
you in deepest peace, which some out-welling tears would rather
confirm than disturb, I have reverted to the times of your
beginnings, and the sowings of the seed by Fox andDewesbury."
— Lamb, " A Quakers' Meeting."

The poetic diction of Lamb, together with his careful avoid-
ance of poetic metre, forms a pleasant kind of incongruity,
as when he apostrophizes St. Valentine thus :

" Great is thy name in the rubric, thou venerable Archflamen
of Hymen ! Immortal Go-between ! who and what manner of
person art thou ] . . . . Wert thou indeed a mortal prelate,
with thy tippet and thy rochet on, and decent lawn sleeves ?
Mysterious personage ! Like unto thee, assuredly there is no
other mitred father in the calendar."

Here there is a humorous affectation of sublimity, and
poetic diction is in its place. And even in his serious
passages the humour peeps out, and is often expressed by a
poetic expression or quotation, as :

"What is the stillness of the desert compared with this
place 1 what the uncommunicating muteness of fishes ? "

"Their garb and stillness conjoined present a uniformity
tranquil and herd-like — as in the pasture — ' forty feeding like one.' "

When poetic diction is used in this humorous manner, it
is the result of affectation, an intentional and pleasant affecta-
tion of bard-like sublimity. When it is not used humorously,

98 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

there is the danger that the writer will appear to be affected
without intending to be so. Nothing but sublimity of thought
can possibly make sublime diction seem natural. It may be
a matter of question how far poetic prose — i. e., prose using
poetic diction — has been justified by success in individual
instances. It is no question at all that this style is very
rarely successful, and to be successful at all, must be original.
A beginner who wants to write poetic prose wishes to suc-
ceed where only a few men of genius have tried, and only a
few of those few have succeeded.

62. Speech the Guide to Prose. — It is impossible
to write prose by merely resolving to write what is not
poetry. A positive standard is required as well as negative
rules ; and the best positive rule that can be given is, subject
to certain qualifications which will be mentioned presently, to
write as you would speak. This rule leaves great latitude
for variety of style and rhythm, as much latitude as is re-
quired by speech. A man speaks in a very different manner
according as he is conversing at the dinner-table, or holding
a literary discussion, or arguing in a law-court, or addressing
a public meeting or a congregation ; and every different
shade in speaking will be represented in writing. But the
differences will consist almost entirely in the rhythm of the
sentences, in the use of question instead of statement, of short
sentences instead of long ones, not in words, ichich will be very
nearly the same throughout.

63. The differences between Speech and Prose

spring very naturally from the different circumstances of
either. The speaker must make his meaning immediately
intelligible, and must arrest attention at once ; otherwise the

THE DICTION OF PROSE, 99

effect is lost altogether. The reader can review a written
sentence at his leisure. Hence the sentences may fairly be
a little longer and more complicated in writing than in speech;
and hence also, for the sake of arresting attention, a little
sacrifice of literal truth to vividness, in other words, a little
exaggeration, is not uncommon in speech. While speaking,
the speaker can explain himself if he perceives that he is not
understood ; this cannot be done in writing. Hence speech
is more irregular and less exact than writing. In speaking
there are certain aids to help the speaker, action and gesticu-
lation, the modulation of the voice, and the changing expres-
sion of the countenance ; objects or persons mentioned can
often be indicated by the hand ; the auditor or audience can
be questioned, and the expression of their faces can be
interpreted as assent or dissent, and answered accordingly.
The result of all these differences in circumstance is that
speech as compared with writing is, («) less exact in the choice
of words, (b) more brief, and (c) more varied in construction.

64. Writing is more exact than Speech in the choice
of words. "We cannot stand thinking about the most exact
word when some word to produce an immediate effect is
required, and therefore in conversation we allow ourselves to
say, " he's a clever fellow," where, perhaps, we mean " origi-
nal," or "thoughtful," or "judicious," or "sagacious." In
the same way "a fine fellow" may be sometimes used in
conversation to express "gallant," or "unselfish," or
"noble." This inexactness is extremely common in super-
latives, which seem almost necessary as stimulants to give
a flavour to familiar conversation, and to arrest attention.
Hence, " I feared ' becomes in conversation " I was terribly
afraid," " It is a pleasant day " becomes " a most delightful

100 THE DICTION OF PROSE.

day," and "I was in haste," is changed into " I was in a
tremendous hurry." This craving for picturesqueness some-
times manifests itself in similes that would scarcely bear the
test of writing, e.g., "He's as grave as a judge," "as sharp
as a needle," etc. Some exaggeration and inexactness of
this kind is pardonable in speech, though where it is exces-
sive and obtrusive it makes conversation somewhat tedious
( and good talkers avoid it) ; but in written prose such in-
exactness is a fault, except in letters, when something of the
carelessness of conversation is agreeable.

65. Writing is less brief than Speech. — The brevity
of conversation manifests itself in such contractions as don't,
can't, won't, 's for is, Til for I will, and the like ; in the
omission of prepositions in such phrases as "What time will
the train start ?", " What day will you come to see me ?" ;
in elliptical phrases, such as "I tell you what," "I say "; in the
use of short, inexact approximations to a meaning that can
be expressed by a periphrasis, e.g., "It is very unlucky," only
for "it is very much to be regretted "; " he is sharp enough,"
for "he is sufficiently alive to his own interests" ; and also in
the use of other short and expressive words which border
upon, or are, slang, e.g., a snob, a bore, a swell, a muff.

66. Writing is less varied in construction than
Speech. — The greater variety of speech is a natural result
of the presence of a second person who may at any moment
interrupt, or be appealed to. Thus, compare the following
narrative translated from Plutarch with the same words put
into the mouth of Cassius by Shakspeare, and mark the con-
versational abruptness of the hitter rendering :

" When they raised their camp, there came two eagles that,
flying with a marvellous force, lighted upon two of the foremost

THE DICTION OF PEOSE. 101

ensigns, and followed the soldiers, which gave them meat and
fed them until they came near to the city of Philippi, and there,
one day before the battle, they both fled away."

Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign
Two mighty eagles fell ; and there they perched,
Gorging and feeding from our soldiers' hands ;
Who to Philippi here consorted us.
This morning are they fled away and gone.

This conversational abruptness also appears in the dra-
matic rendering by Shakspeare of the following passage from
Plutarch. Here both passages are intended to represent
speech ; but it cannot be doubted that Shakspeare's render-
ing is the more like speech of the two :

" Among the Yolsces there is an old friend and host of mine,
an honest, wealthy man, and now a prisoner, who, living before
in great wealth in his own country, liveth now a poor prisoner
in the hands of his enemies ; and yet, notwithstanding all this
his misery and misfortune, it would do me great pleasure if I
could save him from this one great danger, to keep him from
being sold as a slave." — North's PhitarcK

I sometime lay here at Corioli
At a poor man's house : he used me kindly :
He cried to me: I saw him prisoner ;
But then Aufidius was within my view
And wrath o'erwhelmed my pity : I request you
To give my poor host freedom. Coriolanus.

The greater vividness and abruptness of conversation, and
the appeal to the personal knowledge of the person addressed,
are illustrated by comparing the two following passages :

A common slave— you Tmoiv him well by sight-
Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn
Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand,
Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd, —

Julius Ccesar.

102 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

6 ' There was a slave of the soldiers that did cast a marvellous
burning flame out of his hand, insomuch as they that saw it
thought he had been burnt : when the fire was out, it was
found he had no hurt." — North's Plutarch,

CHAPTER III.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

67. Slang arises in part from conversational exaggeration
carried to excess. " Comfortable" or " merry" being some-
what sober words, we use " jolly " as being more expressive ;
so " plucky " is used instead of " bold," a " dodge " instead
of a " trick," "awfully" instead of " very," a "sham"
instead of a " deception."

Again, a desire to speak humorously sometimes origi-
nates slang. In the attempt to be picturesque, the device
of poetry is adopted, and an object is represented not by
the ordinary word representing it, but by some epithet
or periphrasis. Thus, wine has been called " the rosy,"
a bed "the downy," tobacco "the noxious weed" or
"the fragrant weed," and a father "the governor." In
many cases these epithets are quite out of place, and a
comical effect is produced by the incongruity. The whole
of the vocabulary of the prize-ring is based upon this
principle ; it throws a veil of grotesqueness and comicality
over descriptions that are intrinsically disgusting and brutal.
More often slang is used to save the trouble of choosing
the right word. Thus, " he is a jolly fellow," is often used
to mean that the person spoken of is kind-hearted, or

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 103

generous, or pleasant, or amiable, or good-humoured, or
amusing, or good. In some cases slang may cover positive
ignorance of the words of polite diction ; but more often it
is not so much ignorance as laziness that is the cause.
Slang is intended to save the necessity of thinking, and it
answers the purpose.

68. Technical Slang. — Another kind of slang may be
called technical. Some technical slang is altogether vulgar.
No one in polite society could use the slang of thieves or
roughs. But (i.) every art and profession and trade has
some technical terms of its own, which may be called its
slang. Thus the Cambridge man speaks of being " plucked,"
the Oxford man of being " ploughed," the barrister of
" eating his terms" and "getting silk," the cavalry officer
of " the heavies," and so on. And besides this legitimate
use of slang in speaking of particular employments, there is
(ii.) another which consists in the metaphorical application of
technical terms of some employment, to objects not in the
scope of that employment. Thus, men are said " to pull
well together," instead of "to work well together;"
a diplomatist outwitting another, is said to " force his
antagonist's hand;" a witness is exposed to "a running
fire of questions." All these expressions lie within the
province of polite diction. They are technical metaphors
borrowed from athletic sports, polite amusements, and war-
fare ; and being also vivid and real, they are liked by the
English people, and used by our best authors. King
Henry Y. answers the French ambassadors with an elabo-
rate metaphor from the game of tennis :

When we have match'd our rackets to these balls,
We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set
Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard.

104 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler
That all the courts of France will be disturbed
With chaces. Henry V. l

But many other technical metaphors, borrowed from
agriculture and horse-racing, are in bad taste and vulgar.
The only safe rule by which we can distinguish between
polite and vulgar diction in such cases, is the custom of
polite society. But the principle upon which the rule of
discrimination ought to be based is this : The metaphor
should be (1) obvious, and not far-fetched ; (2) necessary, or,
at all events, very useful, substituting a short and clear
expression for a long and vague one.

Thus we might perhaps say of the result of a competitive
examination, that the first man " won in a canter; " but it
would be an unnecessary and vulgar expression to speak of
" trotting a person out," or instead of saying that a child
is " nearly ten years old," to say that he is " rising ten."
Again, though we can say metaphorically, " The die is
cast," and, " I will stake my all," it is slang to say, " He
is a trump," for this is unnecessary, and the metaphorical
meaning too loosely corresponds to the technical reality.
On the other hand, "This fellow is evidently hedging,"
contains a terse and almost necessary metaphor.

69. Fine Writing, — Closely connected with slang, is a
kind of writing very common in inferior newspapers, in
which the writer carefully avoids saying what he means in
a natural manner, always preferring some kind of circumlo-
cution. This, which may be called the fault of fine writing,
often springs from the consciousness of a want of familiarity

1 Of course the present of the tennis-balls is a special reason for this
elaborate Metaphor.— Henry V., Act i. Sc. 2. 1. 258.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 105

with the common words of polite diction, and from a con-
sequent determination to avoid vulgarity at any price. Thus,
instead of " a fine lot of poultry," we find " an interesting
assortment of the feathered creation;" "they lunched or
dined," becomes " they partook of some refreshment," and
instead of "women," we have " that moiety of the popula-
tion wont to be termed the gentler sex." Sometimes the
chase after fine words results in letting slip any intelligible
meaning, or, at all events, it produces an inconvenient
vagueness, as in " The return of youths to their respective
boarding-houses induces a solicitude for their personal
comfort and attraction."

The one peculiarity of this very offensive style is that
it eschews words of pure English derivation as much as
possible. Instead of a " man," ilprefers an " individual; "
instead of a "kind," a "species;" instead of "May I
help you to some potatoes ? " it prefers " may I assist you ; "
instead of " I have enough of this," it prefers "I have
sufficient of this," which is as incorrect as "I have in-
adequate of this." In ascending a hill, a man is said (in
fine writing) to " climb to its wpex" instead of to its top.
Besides spoiling the particular sentence in which it occurs,
this substitution of recondite for common words engenders
an inaccurate use of the former, as when period is used for a
point of time, and a man proposes to do something " at the
earliest practicable period/5 instead of "as soon as possible,"
or, " at the earliest opportunity:5'

Even where fine ivriiing does not result in vagueness, it
is sure to be pompous and stilted. A well-known example
of this style is quoted by Lord Macaulay from Dr. Johnson,
who tells the same story in the two following different
styles. The former and more natural version is taken from

106 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

his letters ; the latter from his " Journey to the Hebrides."
Dr. Johnson seems to have thought the diction, as well as
the rhythm of epistolary correspondence unfit for the
dignity of a book.

(1) "When we were taken upstairs, a dirty fellow bounced
out of the bed on which one of us was to lie."

(2) " Out of one of the beds on which we were to repose,
started up at our entrance a man as black as a Cyclops from the
forge."

One common fault in this pompous style is to substitute
" we " for "I." ' Where a person is writing in the name of
a number of persons, — as, for instance, in a newspaper, —
or where he includes the reader, as his companion, the
"we" is in place : it represents the truth, and, because it
represents the truth, it adds a certain weight to what is
written. But where a man is expressing his individual
convictions, or narrating his personal experiences, " we " is
is out of place, and is often ridiculous, as if a man should
write " we once went with our wife to the Crystal Palace."

70. Patch-work. — The fault of fine writing very often
manifests itself in a hankering after little chips of poetic
expressions as substitutes for common words. Thus, in-
stead of "portrait," we are treated to "a counterfeit pre-
sentment ;" instead of " a dinner-table," we have " a festive
board;" instead of "tea," "the cup that cheers, but not
inebriates;" and, in the same way, we are told that "the
head and front" of an author's offending is that his
moments of common sense are "few and far between."

Are we then never to use poetic quotations or amusing

1 Sec extract from Wilson above. Par. CO.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 107

periphrases to illustrate and enliven what we have to say ?
Yes, when they really are amusing and really do illustrate,
e.g., Addison's periphrasis for a "fan," " this little modish
machine," at once suggests a deliberate use of it in a
systematic warfare of flirtation. But a poetic quotation
that has been quoted threadbare is neither amusing nor
illustrative, and a commonplace periphrasis is offensive.
Lamb's essays contain many exquisite examples of the use
of (a) quotation and (b) periphrasis, which show at once the
beauty of his style and the danger of imitating it :

(a) a Dost thou love silence deep as that i before the winds
were made ? ' go not into the wilderness, descend not into the
profundities of the earth, shut not up thy casements, nor pour
wax into the little cells of thy ears, with little-faith'd, self-mis-
trusting Ulysses. — Retire with me into a Quaker's Meeting. . . .
What is the stillness of the desert compared with this place ?
what the uncommunicating muteness of fishes f1 Here the god-
dess reigns and revels. e Boreas and Cesias and Argestes loud '
do not with their interconfounding uproars more augment the
brawl, nor the waves of the blown Baltic with their clubbed
sounds — than their opposite (Silence her sacred self) is multiplied
and rendered more intense by numbers and by sympathy."

(b) " In other words, this is the day on which those charming
little missives ycleped Valentines, cross and intercross each other
at every street and turning. The weary and all forspent two-
penny postman sinks beneath a load of delicate embarrassments,
not his own. It is scarcely credible to what extent this ephemeral
courtship is carried on in this loving town, to the great enrich-
ment of porters, and detriment of knockers and bell- wires. In
these little visioal interpretations no emblem is so common as the
heart, — that little three-cornered exponent of all our hopes and

1 Horace, "mutis piscibus."

108 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

fears. . . . Custom has settled these things, and awarded the
seat of sentiment to the aforesaid triangle.''9

Further on, the posting of a Valentine is described thus :

" This, on Valentine's eve, he committed to the all-sivalloiving
indiscriminate orifice (0 ignoble trust) of the common post ; but
the humble medium did its duty, and from his watchful stand,
the next morning he saw the cheerful messenger knock, and by-
and-by the precious charge delivered."

The antidote to " fine writing "Is simplicity and straight-
forwardness. Slang is more difficult to avoid, and when any
one has once contracted a habit of slang, he often afterwards,
in the reaction from one bad habit, falls into another almost
as bad, the habit of u fine writing;" In the great anxiety
to avoid what is grossly vulgar, the writer chooses, not
the simplest, but the finest words that he can think of.
Familiarity with one or two standard English works, such
as the authorized version of the Bible, and Shakspeare, will
go far to cure both slang and fine writing. But besides
these, there must be a feeling that one has something to
say, and a desire to say it as clearly as possible — a supe-
riority to that temptation of making petty jokes and wittic-
isms which characterizes the writer

who now to sense,- bow nonsense, leaning,
Means not, but blunders round about a meaning,

and a determination to go straight to the point, and to use
the clearest words in the clearest possible way.

71. The Antidote for Tautology. — " Fine writing "
thinks it can escape tautology of thought by avoiding mere
repetition of language. Repetition of thought is unques-
tionably a fault, but it is only increased by being glossed
over by variety of expression. When we are' reading

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 109

one of Bishop Burnet's descriptions of character, it is no
doubt unpleasant to find seven or eight consecutive sen-
tences beginning with: "he." Such a style of writing
betokens a want of connected thought, and an absence of
that discrimination which would emphasize now one, now
another circumstance, and which, by placing the emphatic
word in each case at the beginning, would naturally vary
the rhythm and construction. But the cure for the fault
lies in an improvement of the thought, not merely in vary-
ing the expression of it.

If the thought that is uppermost in the writer's mind be
allowed its proper emphatic position in the sentence, the
result will be (provided that the writer thinks clearly) a
clear, straightforward style which will not involve any un-
pleasant tautology. The following passage is a description of
the character of Charles II. in Bishop Burnet's characteristic
style. Almost every sentence begins with he or his, and the
subject is in each case closely followed by the verb. Such
a repetition in good authors would imply an increasing
emphasis on the pronoun, denoting he and no one else.
Thus, " The captain was the life and soul of the expedition :
it was he who first pointed out the possibility of advancing ;
he warned them of the approaching scarcity of provisions ;
he showed how they might replenish their exhausted stock ;
he calmed the excessive exultation of the ignorant ; he cheered
the weary and dejected ; in a word, he, and he alone, was
entitled to the merit of their ultimate success." No such
justification exists for the monotonous repetition in Bishop
Burnet :

"He had a very good understanding. He knew well the
state of affairs both at home and abroad. He had a softness of
temper that charmed all who came near him, till they found

110 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

how little they could depend on good looks, kind words, and
fair promises, in which he was liberal to excess, because he
intended nothing by them but to get rid of importunities, and
to silence all farther pressing upon him. He seemed to have no
sense of religion : both at prayers and at sacrament, he, as it
were, took care to satisfy people that he was in no sort con-
cerned in that about which he was employed. So that he was
very far from being a hypocrite, unless his assisting at those
performances was a sort of hypocrisy (as no doubt it was) : but
he was sure not to increase that, by any the least appearance
of religion. He said once to myself he was no atheist, but he
could not think God could make a man miserable only for
taking a little pleasure out of the way."

The cure for such tautology is, not to adopt a periphrasis
for every he, — " The merry monarch had a very good under-
standing;" " The son of Charles I. knew well the state of
affairs;" " The royal votary of pleasure had a softness of
temper; " " The third of the Stuarts seemed to have no sense
of religion ;" " This irreligious monarch said once to myself,"
— but rather to give its duly emphatic position to every word
that should be emphatic, and to supply the necessary logical
connection between each sentence, e.g.,

"He had a very good understanding, and knew well," etc.
" His temper was so soft," etc.

In the following description of a " Poor Eelation," Lamb
seems, whether consciously or not, to imitate the description
of the Virtuous Woman in the Book of Proverbs.1 There
is a mock assumption of dignity, superior to rhetoric and
emphasis :

" He entereth smiling and — embarrassed. He holdeth out his

1 Proverbs xxxi. Examples of the Oriental fondness for repetition are the
recurring' "Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego," "cornet, flute, harp,"
etc., in the Book of Daniel. There are cases where such repetition befits the
nature of the subject.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. Ill

hand to you to shake, and — draweth it back again. He casually
looketh in about dinner-time — when the table is full. He
offereth to go away, seeing you have company — but is induced
to stay."

Six sentences follow beginning in the same way. Three
or four sentences may sometimes naturally and pleasingly
begin in the same way, but an excess is to be avoided,
though not by the use of periphrasis.

Of course there are cases where a periphrasis is an
essential part of the sense. " The conqueror of Jena was
not likely to consent to such terms as these," is quite a
different statement from the same sentence with " Napoleon"
for " the conqueror of Jena." It is equivalent to saying,
" Napoleon, flushed with the victory of Jena, was not likely,
to," etc. But without this justification, a periphrasis used
merely to disguise tautology, is objectionable.

Contrast with the passage quoted above from Burnet the
variety of the following description of the valour of Corio-
lanus, where some repetition is natural and justifiable, as
the he is emphatic. Here tautology is not avoided by peri-
phrases, but by the emphatic position of the object, or of
some adverbial phrase or sentence.

He bestrid
An o'er-pressed Roman, and i' the consul's view
Slew three opposers : Tar quirts self he met,
And struck him on his knee : in that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the scene,
He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil-age
Man-enter 'd thus, he waxed like a sea,
And in the brunt of seventeen battles since,
He lurch'd all swords of the garland.

72. Obscurity may arise (i.) from an inaccurate and lax

112 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

use of words, the same word being used in different senses;
(ii.) from a careless arrangement of words ; (iii.) from a care-
less use of certain ambiguous words, especially the pronouns.
The accurate use of words is treated of above in the Chapter
on Words, and need not be discussed here. A few remarks
will be made on (ii.) the arrangement of sentences ; (iii.) the
use of jironouns, etc., with a view to clearness. Obscurity
is not a necessary accompaniment of long sentences, nor can
it be avoided by merely avoiding long sentences. A well-
arranged sentence may be clear, however long it may be, if
the dependent and subordinate clauses are so arranged as
not to interfere with the independent part which constitutes,
as it were, the back bone of the sentence. A marked dis-
tinction must be made between (a) the sentences that are
long by reason of enumeration (i.e., the number of the
subordinate clauses), and (b) sentences that are long by
reason of complication. The number of subordinate clauses
makes but little difference provided that they are simple, and
simply connected with the main part of the sentence. Thus :
(a.) A long enumerative sentence : —

" Now that you have recognized the failure of your plans, and
have lost all hope of success ; now that you are deserted by
your followers and suspected by your own family ; a king with-
out subjects, a general without an army, and a plotter without
so much as the basis for a plot, — it is absurd for you to expect to
dictate in your adversity the same conditions which you rejected
in prosperity."

But if the subordinate clauses are complicated, and them-
selves contain other subordinate clauses, it is difficult to
make even a short sentence readily perspicuous, e.g.,

(b.) A complicated sentence: —

"The former, being a man of good parts of learning, and

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. ll3

after some years spent in New College in Oxford, of which his
father had been formerly fellow (that family pretending and
enjoying many privileges there, as of kin to the founder), had
spent his time abroad, in Geneva and among the cantons of
Switzerland." — Clarendon.

When the sentence is longer, the difficulty is greatly
increased :

" Yet when that discovery drew no other severity but the
turning him out of office, and the passing a sentence con-
demning him to die for it (which was presently pardoned, and
he was after a short confinement restored to his liberty), all
men believed that the king knew of the letter, and that the pre-
tended confession of the secretary was only collusion to lay the
jealousies of the king's favouring popery, which still hung upon
him, notwithstanding his writing on the Revelation, and his
affecting to enter on all occasions into controversy, asserting in
particular that the Pope was antichrist." — Burnet.

A sentence that is heterogeneous cannot be readily com-
prehended. There is a difficulty in passing rapidly from one
statement to a second having no natural connection with the
first. This difficulty remains, even if the statements are
written as separate sentences. The mere transition from one
subject of a verb to another, if too abrupt, is sufficient to
prevent ready comprehension.

The following sentence describes an execution, its subse-
quent legalization, a pardon, the suppression of a rebellion, a
popular reaction, the consequent unpopularity of a states-
man, and a general characteristic of the English people.
Such a sentence would have been far better broken up into
two or three sentences.

(c.) Heterogeneous sentence:

" In all, fifty-eight were executed in several places, whose

114 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

attainders were confirmed by an act of the f ollowing parliament ;
six hundred of the rabble were appointed to come before the
queen with halters about their necks, and to beg their lives,
which she granted them ; and so was this storm dissipated :
only the effusion after it was thought too liberal : and this excess
of punishment was generally cast on Gardiner, and made him
become very hateful to the nation, which has been always much
moved at a repetition of such sad spectacles."

Obscurity also arises from inversions and omissions. — In
letter- writing, inversions are not uncommon, and sometimes
cause mistakes, especially where punctuation is neglected ;
but they are most common in poetry, e.g.,

(d.) Inversion :

And all the air a solemn stillness holds.

Gray's Elegy.

The following is a case of intentional ambiguity :

The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose,
But him outlive and die a violent death.

Skakspeare.

When Adam, first of men,
To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech,
Turned him all ear to hear new utterance flow.

Milton.

Here there would have been some obscurity even if the
sentence had run " turned him to Eve (who was) all ear to
hear," etc. But the inversion makes the obscurity still
greater.

The omission or rather non-repetition of the Subject some-
times strains the attention, and causes some degree of obscu-
rity, especially when the non-repetition is in a subordinate
clause.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 115

(e.) Non-repetition of Subject :

" So that it is but a groundless fiction, made by those who
have either been the authors, or at least have laid down the
principles of all the rebellions, and yet would cast that blame
on others, and exempt themselves from it ; as if they were the
surest friends of princes, while they design to enslave them to a
foreign power, and will neither allow them to reign nor to live,
but at the mercy of the head of that principality to which all
other powers must bend ; or break if they meet with an age
that is so credulous and superstitious as to receive their dictates."
— Burnet.

The omission of the Subject is particularly likely to cause
obscurity after a Kelative standing as Subject :

" Just at this moment I met a man who seemed a suspicious

sort of fellow, and turned down a lane ( to avoid \ lm" )

V ( me. ;

Here, if the sentence ended at the word " lane," the ambi-
guity would be complete.

73. Ambiguous Words, and above all the pronouns,
often cause obscurity.

A rule should be laid down that no pronoun is to be used
unless the context clearly shows what noun is represented by
the pronoun.

(a.) Ambiguity of personal pronouns : — -

" By these the King was mollified, and resolved to restore him
(the Duke of Monmouth) again to his favour. It stuck much
at the confession that he was to make. The King promised that
no use should be made of it : but he stood on it, that he must
tell him the whole truth of the matter. Upon which he con-
sented to satisfy the King. But he would say nothing to the
(Duke of York) more than to ask his pardon in a general com-
pliment."

116 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

The ambiguity arising from he in a reported speech is well
known :

"He told the coachman that he would be the death of him if
he did not take care what he was about and mind what he said."

Here the intention of the writer was that the he in the
" he would be the death" should refer to the coachman,
who would cause his employer to lose his life by rash
driving, but the employer might very easily be meant.

(b.) The relative pronoun also causes ambiguity when the
antecedent is not clearly indicated. When the relative may
refer to a noun in the preceding sentence, or to the whole of
the sentence, the ambiguity is sometimes very perplexing,
e.g., " There was a public-house next door which was a
great nuisance." Here which may refer to the " public-
house," but it may refer, not to the " public-house," but to
to the fact that the public-house was next door. Strictly
speaking, that should have been used in the former case, and
which in the latter.1

It is a vulgar fault to connect heterogeneous sentences and
combine them into one long sentence by a frequent use of
the relative pronoun. Every repetition of the relative in the
same sentence introduces a possibility of ambiguity, and
therefore an excessive use of which (or, as it has been
jestingly termed, " the sin of witchcraft") ought to be care-
fully avoided. The standard prose writers of the seven-
teenth and eighteenth centuries sometimes commit this fault.
It would have been better not to combine two sentences by
the relative adverb where, but to keep the two distinct in —

1 That should introduce a clause defining or limiting the antecedev t,
which a fact about the antecedent. "A friend that helps is better thin
my friend who (for he) only advises." — See Shakespearian Grammar, p. 176-7.

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 117

"He is supposed to have fallen by his father's death into the
hands of his uncle, a vintner near Charing Cross, who sent him
for some time to Dr. Busby at Westminster ; but, not intending
to give him any education beyond that of the school, took him
when he was well advanced in literature to his own house, where
the Earl of Dorset, celebrated for patronage of genius, found
him by chance, as Burnet relates, reading Horace, and was so
well pleased with his proficiency, that he undertook the care and
cost of his academical education."

Here, preceded by a fullstop, would be better than where.

This leads us to distinguish those cases (a) where the
relative who, etc., is divisible into the demonstrative with
some conjunction, " and he," "for he," etc., from those
cases (j3) where the relative is indivisible.

(a). Divisible Relative.

"And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast
them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them safely ; who,
(and he) having received such a charge, thrust them into the
inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks." — Acts of
the Apostles, xvi. 23, 24.

This use of the Belative is perhaps an imitation of Latin.
It is at all events more suitable for Latin, where the Antece-
dent of the Eelative is indicated by the gender and number
of the Belative, than for English where no inflectional
means exist for connecting the Belative with its Antecedent,
so as to avoid ambiguity.1

(]3). Indivisible Relative.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils.

Merchant of Venice.

1 When and where are often thus used.

118 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

Here the Kelative does not introduce an additional fact,
but an essential part of the subject, which is not complete
without the Eelative clause. In this case the Relative cannot
be avoided by using the demonstrative and a conjunction.

(c.) The Negative often causes ambiguity when it is not clear
what part of the sentence is modified by not. " The remedy
for drunkenness is not-to-be-ascetic, or is-not to-be-ascetic."
" I shall not help-you-because-you-are-my-friend (but because
you are in the right)," or " I shall-not-help-you, because-
you-are-my-enemy."

The following instance, though not itself ambiguous,
suggests the ambiguities that may arise in this way :

" They shall not build, and another inhabit ; they shall not
plant, and another eat." — Isaiah lxv. 22. (A. Y.)

(d.) Any is often ambiguously used. When not modified by a
negative, it means " any you like," i.e., " every ;" but " not
any" instead of meaning "not every," means "not a single
one." Hence, where the negative is carelessly placed, any
becomes ambiguous, because we cannot tell whether it
means every or one, e.g.,

' i No person shall derive any benefit from this rule who has
not been engaged for at least five years to a house of business
employing not less than a hundred clerks at any time."

This ought to mean " em}jloying at no time less than a
hundred;" but any in such cases is often confused with
some. Again, in "I cannot believe anything that you
say," and " I cannot believe anything that you choose to
say," anything means in the first case " a single thing," in
the second case " everything."

It is quite impossible to determine, without fuller context,
the meaning of the word any in such a sentence as :

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 119

"I am not bound to receive any messenger whom you may
send."

(e.) But sometimes causes obscurity, and since it may
mean, according to the context, except, or on the other hand,
or only, must be very carefully handled.

(a) " As for the falsehood of your brother, I feel no doubt ;
but what you say is true."

" As for the falsehood of your brother, I feel no doubt but
what you say is true."

(,3) " I expected twelve; but (either only or contrary to my
expectation) ten came."

The following is perfectly clear, but shows the possibility
of ambiguity :

(7) There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he's an arrant knave.

Hamlet.

(/.) Adverbs, when misplaced, or even inverted for em-
phasis, may easily cause obscurity. Sometimes without
being positively wrongly placed, they cause confusion when
they come at the end of a clause, and are followed by
a new clause beginning with a participle :

" He left the room very slowly repeating his determination
not to obey."

' ' He charged me with peculation falsely asserting that I had
not sent in my accounts."

(g.) Participles are often used with nothing to show what
noun they qualify. This produces great obscurity in poetry.
Thus, in the passage quoted above from Milton :

Adam, first of men,
To first of women, Eve, thus moving speech
Turned him.

120 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

But such ambiguity is also common in the most ordinary-
prose.

(a) "I did not hear what you said coming so suddenly into
the noisy room."

(/3) "I saw an old schoolfellow yesterday when I was in
London ivalking down Regent Street, carpet-bag in hand."

(7) "I must be forgiven if this stranger has not received
allowance from me, placed in these trying circumstances, and
surrounded by everything that can perplex and distract."

(h.) A congestion of infinitives causes ambiguity, when it
is not clear whether an infinitive is parallel to or depending
on a previous infinitive. This ambiguity may occur even
in a very short sentence :

"Do you intend to send your son to help me to work or to
play?"

(1) " Do you intend (to send your son, or to help me, or to
work, or to play ?) "

(2) "... to send your son (that he may help me or that
he may work or that he may play V) "

(3) " ... to send your son to help me (that I may work or
that I may play V) "

74. The Antidote for Obscurity is a careful obser-
vation of such natural obscurities of the English language
as^have been enumerated above, and watchfulness in avoiding
them. The causes of error are very few, but they recur
again and again ; and if they are once carefully noted and
avoided, a very few simple rules will be sufficient to prevent
a great many mistakes. For example, a careful use of the
relative and personal pronouns will remove a great many
common obscurities.

Conversational license sometimes encourages us to take
liberties in writing which produce obscurity : against this

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 121

we must be on our guard. As there are few inflections in
English, the function of a word in a sentence is determined
partly by the position of the word, partly by emphasis and
modulation of the voice. The four words " When will you
ride ? " admit of four somewhat different meanings, accord-
ing as the emphasis is laid on one or other of the words.
There is a danger that when we write we may write too
much as we speak, forgetting that a reader cannot be ex-
pected to put the precise emphasis which we should put.
The emphasis is perhaps necessary to explain the exact
meaning, and in such cases what was clear when spoken,
becomes obscure when written. Almost all the ambiguous
sentences noted in the last paragraph would be free from
obscurity if they were spoken. It follows that more care
must be bestowed upon the arrangement of words in writing
than in conversation,

A few further remarks on the best way to write or speak
a long sentence intelligibly, will be conveniently given under
the head of the rhetorical period.

75. The Rhetorical Period is based upon the necessity
for (a) clearness and (b) impressiveness which is felt by
those who have to persuade a large assembly. The paren-
theses and rambling anarchy of conversation are out of
place here : for rhetoric must be pointed and incisive. The
continuous pursuit of some thread of subtle thought, the
quiet soliloquizing or sudden outburst of lyrical poetry, are
also out of place, — either too subtle, or too quiet, or too
difficult to follow for a large audience of average persons.
Excitement must be sometimes produced, but the way for
it must be carefully prepared. There must be no surprises
and perplexities to the audience, nothing to prevent them

122 FAULTS IX DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

from being carried uninterruptedly and insensibly along with
the speaker. No speaker would begin a long speech by

O that this too, too solid flesh would melt !
or,

Ruin seize thee, ruthless king !
or,

Hence, loathed Melancholy.

Accordingly, a long rhetorical sentence is often preceded by
a kind of introductory epitome of what is going to be said.
Many examples of this might be extracted from Burke. The
two following, which are consecutive in the original, will

/suffice :

"But now all is to be changed. All the pleasing illusions
which made power gentle, and obedience liberal, which harmo-
nized the different shades of life, and which, by a bland assimi-
lation, incorporated into politics the sentiments which beautify
and soften private society, are to be dissolved by this new con-
quering empire of light and reason. All the decent drapery of
life is to be rudely torn off. All the superadded ideas furnished
from the wardrobe of a moral imagination, which the heart owns
and the understanding ratifies as necessary to cover the defects
of our naked shivering nature, and to raise it to dignity in our
own estimation, are to be exploded as a ridiculous, absurd, and
antiquated fashion." — Burke.

The repetition of the connecting words, the conjunctions,
relative pronouns, auxiliary verbs, and prepositions in a
long sentence is very conducive to clearness, often also to
impressiveness, as in the following example :

" My lords, you have here also the lights of our religion ; you
have the bishops of England. My lords, yoii have that true
image of the primitive church in its ancient form, in its ancient
ordinances, purified from the superstitions and the vices which a

FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES. 123

long succession of ages will bring upon the best institutions.
You have the representatives of that religion which says that
their God is love, that the very vital spirit of their institution is
charity; a religion which" etc. " Therefore it is with confi-
dence that, ordered by the Commons, I impeach Warren Hast-
ings, Esq., of high crimes and misdemeanors. I impeach him
in the name of the Commons of Great Britain in Parliament
assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has betrayed. I im-
peach him in the name of," etc. (three more times repeated.) —
Burke.

(b.) Impressiveness and clearness both require the antithe-
tical style, which is very common in rhetoric. Very common-
place considerations may explain the kind of duality of
expression which pervades many great popular harangues.
The mere effort to make one's meaning perfectly clear in a
somewhat noisy audience (and perhaps the convenience of
gaining more time for thought) may explain why speakers
should sometimes use two words for one, so that if one be
lost, the meaning may be explained by the other, e.g., " If I
saw a hamlet, or if I saw a homestead at the foot of yonder
mountain."1

But, independent of all such obvious considerations of ex-
pediency, there is something striking in the neatness and sym-
metry of a well-balanced antithesis which arrests the attention.
Very often the meaning of one-half of the antithesis is also
illustrated by the other half. For example, in considering
the meaning of liberal in such a sentence as " all the
pleasing illusions which made power gentle, and obedience
liberal," we are helped very much by bearing in mind that

1 Twice repeated in a beautiful and well-known passage in one of Mr.
Bright' s speeches (as reported in the Times), illustrating the danger from
impending political disturbance by a description of the danger of a hamlet
situated at the foot of a volcanic mountain.

124 FAULTS IN DICTION, AND THEIR REMEDIES.

" liberal obedience " corresponds to " gentle power," i.e.,
power without the natural defect of power, brutality ; and
hence we are led to the inference that " liberal obedience M
means obedience without the natural defect of obedience, i.e.,
without servility. Any page of Burke's speeches will give
instances of antithesis :

" They had long views. They aimed at the rule, not at the
destruction of their country. They were men of great civil and
great military talents, and, if the terror, the ornament of their
age." — Burke.

A constant repetition of antithesis becomes forced and
wearisome, especially when accompanied by alliteration :

" Who can persuade where treason is above reason, and
might ruleth right, and it is had for lawful whatsoever is lust-
ful, and commotioners are better than commissioners, and
common woe is named common wealth 1 " — CheJce, quoted by
Ben Jonson.

When the audience is worked up to a sufficient height,
the impressiveness of rhetoric not only justifies, but some-
times demands the impassioned exclamations and repetitions
of poetry. See the passage quoted from Burke1 in para-
graph 60, where, after the quiet introduction, "It is now
sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France,"
the speaker1 goes on to, " Oh, what a revolution ! . . . .
Never, never more shall we behold . ... It is gone, that
sensibility' of principle, ' ' etc.

The impressiveness of rhetoric requires an abundant use

1 The " Reflections on the Revolution in France," though written in "a
letter intended to have been sent to a gentleman in Paris/' have notlung but
the " dear sir " at the beginning in common with the style of a letter.

SIMILE AND METAPHOE. 125

of metaphor, — not the quiet, subtle, and exquisite metaphor
of the higher kind of written prose, but effective and in-
telligible metaphor. Khetoric is altogether alien from ex~
quisiteness; it addresses itself to the average person, and is
very often forcible at the expense of grace :

" In the groves of their Academy, at the end of eveiy vista, you
see nothing but the gallows." — Burke.

It is scarcely necessary to add that a repetition of the
period, unbroken by more abrupt sentences, would soon
become monotonous, and produce a sense of artificiality.
Cicero says that the continuous use of the period is fitter for
history and panegyric than for forensic oratory. He adds
that in oratorical narration and compliment it can be more
freely used than in other parts of an orator's speech. The
frequent use of the period may tend to ornateness, as in
Burke ; but we know that Burke's speeches were not re-
markable for their success in persuading.1

CHAPTER IV.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

76. Similarity. — In order to describe an object that has
not been seen we use the description of some object or objects
that have been seen. Thus, to describe a lion to a person
who had never seen one, we should say that it had some-
thing like a horse's mane, the claws of a cat, etc. We
might say, " A lion is like a monstrous cat with a horse's

1 See page 222.

126 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

mane." This sentence expresses a likeness of things, or a
similarity.

77. Simile. — In order to describe some relation that can-
not be seen, e.g., the relation between a ship and the water,
as regards the action of the former upon the latter, to a lands-
man who had never seen1 the sea or a ship, we might say,
"The ship acts upon the water as a plough turns up the
land." In other words, " The unknown relation between the
ship and the sea is similar to the known relation between
the plough and the land." This sentence expresses a simi-
larity of relations, and is called a simile. It is frequently
expressed thus :

" As the plough turns up the land, so the ship acts on the
sea."

Def. — A Simile is a sentence expressing a simi-
larity of relations.

1 Very rarely a simile illustrates what is seen by what is not seen. Take,
as an example, the following description of the rainbow over a cataract :

But on the verge
From side to side, beneath the glittering morn
An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge,
Like Hope upon a deathbed, and, unworn
Its steady dyes, while all around is torn
By the distracted waters, bears serene
Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn :
Resembling, 'mid the horror of the scene,
Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.

Childe Harold.

These similes are intended, not to make the object described clearer, but
more interesting. They suggest a kind of sympathy and personality in
Nature. " A sighing oak" and " an angry torrent" give clearness as well as
interest, because sighs and anger are familiar to all; but " Love watching

SIMILE AND METAPHOE. 127

Consequently a simile is a kind of rhetorical proportion,
and must, when fully expressed, contain four terms :

A : B : : C : D.

78. Compression of Simile into Metaphor. — A

simile lingers over illustration and ornament, and is there-
fore better suited for poetry than for prose. Moreover, when
a simile has been long in use, there is a tendency to consider
the assimilated relations not merely as similar but as identical.
The simile modestly asserts that the relation between the ship
and the sea is like ploughing. The compressed simile goes
further, and asserts that the relation between the ship and
the sea is ploughing. It is expressed thus: " The ship
ploughs the sea."

Thus the relation between the plough and the land is
transferred to the ship and the sea. A simile thus com-
pressed is called a Metaphor, i.e., transference.

Def. A Metaphor is a transference of the relation
between one set of objects to another, for the pur-
pose of brief explanation.

79. Metaphor fully stated or implied. — A metaphor
may be either fully stated, as " The ship ploughs (or is the
plough of) the sea" or implied, as "The winds are the horses
that draw the plough of the sea." In the former case it is

Madness " does not help you to see the waterfall, but only to feel the charm
of it. The following is not on quite the same footing :

She sat like Patience on a monument,

Smiling at Grief. Twelfth Night.

A woman is compared, not to Patience in the abstract, but to a female figure
representing it. The prose version would be, " She looked so patient, that
she might have stood for a statue of Patience."

128 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

distinctly stated, in the latter implied, that the " plough of
the sea " represents a ship.

80. Implied Metaphor the basis of Language. — A
great part of our ordinary language, all that concerns the
relations of invisible things, consists of implied metaphors;
for we most naturally describe the relations of those things
which are not visible, tangible, etc., by means of the re-
lations of those things which are visible, tangible, etc.
We are in the habit of assuming the existence of a certain
proportion or analogy between the relations of the mind
and those of the body. This analogy is the foundation
of all words that express mental and moral qualities. For
example, we do not know how a thought suggests itself
suddenly to the mind, but we do know how an external
object makes itself felt by the body. Experience teaches us
that anything which strikes the body makes itself suddenly
felt. Analogy suggests that whatever is suddenly perceived
comes in the same way into contact with the mind. Hence
the simile — " As a stone strikes the body, so a thought
makes itself perceptible to the mind." This simile may be
compressed into the full metaphor, thus, " The thought
struck my mind," or into the implied metaphor, thus, " This
is a striking thought." In many words that express im-
material objects the implied method can easily be traced
through the derivation, as in " excellence," "tribulation,"
"integrity," " spotlessness," etc.

N.B. The use of metaphor is well illustrated in words that
describe the effects of sound. Since the sense of hearing seems
less powerful and less suggestive of words than the senses
of sight, taste, and touch, the poorer sense is compelled to
borrow a part of its vocabulary from the richer senses. Thus

SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

129

we talk of " a sweet voice," "a soft whisper," "a sharp
scream," " a piercing shriek," and the Romans used the ex-
pression " a dark- coloured voice,"1 where we should say " a
rough voice."

81. Metaphor expanded. — As every simile can be com-
pressed into a metcqjhor, so, conversely, every metaphor can
be expanded into its simile. The following is the rule for
expansion. It has been seen above that the simile consists
of four terms. In the third term of the simile stands the
subject ("ship," for instance) whose unknown predicated
relation (" action of ship on water") is to be explained. In
the first term stands the corresponding subject (" plough")
whose predicated relation (" action on land") is known. In
the second term is the known relation. The fourth term is
the unknown predicated relation which requires explanation.
Thus—

the plough
Known subject.

turns up the land,
Known predicate.

the ship

Subject whose

predicate is

unknown.

acts on the sea,

Unknown
predicate.

Sometimes the fourth term or unknown predicate may re-
present something that has received no name in the language.
Thus, if we take the words of Hamlet, " In my mind's eye,"
the metaphor when expanded would become —

the body

is enlightened by the
eye,

the mind

Subject

whose

is enlightened by
a certain percep-
tive faculty.

Unknown predi-

Known subject.

Known predicate.

predicate
is un-
known.

cate.

1 " Voxfusca."

130 SIMILE AND METAPHOR,

For several centuries there was no word in the Latin lan-
guage to describe this " perceptive faculty of the mind." At
last they coined the word " imaginatio," which appears in
English as "imagination." This word is found as early as
Chaucer ; but it is quite conceivable that the English lan-
guage should, like the Latin, have passed through its best
period without any single word to describe the " mind's eye."
The details of the expansion will vary according to the
point and purpose of the metaphor. In " the ship is the
plough of the sea," nothing more than the action of the
plough on the surface of the water is the relation considered ;
but in " the conversation of Socrates was the plough of the
Greek mind," the point of the metaphor is the fertilizing
action of the plough in breaking up the land and making
it ready to receive the seed.

82. Personifications. — (1) Men are liable to certain
feelings, such as shame, fear, repentance, and the like, which
seem not to be originated by the person, but to come upon
him from without. For this reason such impersonal feelings
are in some languages represented by impersonal verbs.
In Latin these verbs are numerous, "pudet," "piget,"
"taedet," "pcenitet," " libet," etc. In early English
they were still more numerous, and we retain "it snows,"
"it rains," "it hails," though we have almost, or quite,
lost " methinks," " meseems," " it shames me," " it pitieth
me," " it repents me." Men are, however, not contented
with separating their feelings from their own person ; they
also feel a desire to account for them. For this purpose
they have often imagined as the cause of their feelings, Per-
sonal Beings, such as Hope, Fear, Faith, etc. Hence arose
what may be called Personification.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR. 131

(2) Personification is also used to account for results in
the outer world of which the causes are not visible. Hence
the Winds and the Seasons are connected or identified
with Persons, e.g., Zephyr, Flora, and other natural objects
which seem to have a kind of life, are personified in the
same way. Thus, the trees are personified as Dryads.

(3) Personal Metaphor is the name that should strictly
be given to a third class of Personifications. A complex
system, such as the earth, or sea, considered and spoken of
as a whole, comes easily to be regarded and spoken of as
possessing a kind of Personality. Thus Wordsworth, in
the following verses, is on the point of personifying evening
and the sun : the tendency becomes stronger as he con-
tinues, and at last the Sea is spoken of as a " Being," and
actually personified :

It is a beauteous evening-, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration ; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquillity ;
The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea :
Listen ! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder — everlastingly.

Sonnets.

For the same reason nations and cities, e.g., England,
France, Rome, Jerusalem, are regarded as Persons possess-
ing individual characteristics. Lastly, Youth, Pleasure, Old
Age, appear sometimes to be instances of this kind of
Personification : 1

Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm. — Gray.

1 These cases, however, approximate to those in Classes (1) and (2) above.
See page 134 to distinguish between Personal Metaphor and Personification.

132 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

Def. Personification is the creation of a fictitious
Person in order to account for (1) Psychological or
(2) obscure Physical phenomena.

83. Personifications of Classes (1) and (2) cannot
be expanded. — The process of expansion into Simile can
be performed in the case of a Metaphor, because there is
implied a comparison. But the process cannot be performed
in a Personification of class (1) and (2) where no comparison
is implied. " A frowning mountain " can be expanded,
because this is a Metaphor implying a comparison between
a mountain and a person, a gloom and a frown. But " frown-
ing Wrath " cannot be expanded, because this is a Personifi-
cation of class (1) implying no comparison. The same
applies to " the joyful Dryads."

It is the essence of a Metaphor that it should be literally
false, as in " a frowning mountain." It is the essence of a
Personification that, though founded on imagination, it is
conceived to be literally true, as in " pale Fear," " dark Dis-
honour." A painter would represent " Death" as "pale,"
and "Dishonour" as "dark," though he would not represent
a "mountain" with a "frown," or a " ship " as a "plough."

84. Apparent Exception. — The only case where a
simile is involved and an expansion is possible is where there
is an implied Metaphor as well as a Personification. Thus
the phrase " Mars mows down his foes " is not literally true.
No painter would represent Mars (though he would Time)
with a scythe. It is therefore a Metaphor, and, as such,
capable of expansion thus :

" As easily as a haymaker mows down the grass, so easily
does Mars cut down his foes with his sword."

SIMILE AND METAPHOR. 133

But the phrase "Mars slays his foes" is, from a poet's
or painter's point of view, literally true. It is therefore no
metaphor, and cannot be expanded.

85. Personification analysed. — Though we cannot
expand a Personification into a Simile, we can explain the
details of it. The same analogy which leads men to find a
correspondence between visible and invisible objects leads
them also to assume a similarity between cause and effect.
This belief, which is embodied in the line

Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat,

is the basis of all Personification. Since fear makes men
look pale, and dishonour gives a dark and scowling ex-
pression to the face, it is inferred that Fear is " pale,"
and Dishonour " dark." And in the same way famine is
" gaunt ; " Jealousy " green-eyed ; " Faith " pure-eyed ; "
Hope " white-handed."

86. Personal Metaphor, natural and convenient. —

We instinctively wish that visible nature, e.g., mountains,
winds, trees, rivers, etc., should have a power of sympathising
with men. This desire begets a kind of poetical belief that
such a sympathy actually exists. Further, the vocabulary
expressing the variable moods of man is so much richer than
that which expresses the changes of nature that the latter
borrows from the former. For these reasons, even where
we do not venture on distinct Personification, we often attri-
bute some of the relations of a Person to inanimate objects,
and thus the morn is said to laugh, mountains to frown, winds
to whisper, rivulets to prattle, oaks to sigh. The following
may be given as a definition of Personal Metaphor.

134 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

Def. A Personal Metaphor is a transference of
personal relations to an impersonal object for the
purpose of assisting conception.

In Personal Metaphors, if we attempt to expand them,
the first term will always be " a person;'' the second, the
predicated relation properly belonging to the person, and
improperly transferred to the impersoDal object ; the third,
the impersonal object. Thus —

uAs a person frowns, so an overhanging mountain (looks
gloomy).

" As a child prattles, so a brook (makes a ceaseless cheerful
noise)."

It is not always easy to draw the line between Personifi-
cation and Personal Metaphor. " The grey morn comes on
apace," or " the morn steals on the night," may fairly be
treated as Personal Metaphors. But when pictorial details
are added, e.g.,

But see the Morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill,

Hamlet.

there seems to be a Personification, which is still more evi-
dent in

Not trick'd and frounced as she was wont
With the Attic boy to hunt.

II Penseroso.

87. Pseudo-Metaphors and Hyperbole. — Little or
nothing can be gained by expanding a Personal Meta-
phor, A frown or a sigh presupposes & person, and there-
fore we learn little from stating the relation fully, aas a
person sighs, so an oak makes a noise." The expression,
" a sighing oak" may either be treated as a Personification

SIMILE AND METAPHOE. 135

(in which case the oak is regarded as a Dryad), or else as an
exaggerated and terse way of expressing, not a simile, but a
similarity : thus there is no metaphor in the " fleecy flood"
applied to " snow" : it is merely a short way of saying that
" snow" resembles " fleece" in colour. Just so " a sighing
oak" may be considered as a short exaggeration for "an
oak the sound of whose leaves resembles sighing." It is
almost as unnecessary to explain in the one case by saying,
" as a person sighs," etc., as it would be in the other to
explain by saying, " as a sheep has fleece," etc. " Fleece"
presupposes " sheep" little more than "sigh" presupposes
" person." In some cases the exaggeration is evident, and
it is clear there is no metaphor. Thus, in

Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble,

the meaning is merely " thy voice is as loud and terrible as
thunder." Again,

Every man's conscience is a thousand swords
To fight against that bloody homicide.

Richard III.
Or,

But he, poor soul, by your first order died,
And that a winged Mercury did bear ;
Some tardy cripple bore the countermand,
That came too lag to see him buried.

lb.

In the last passage one messenger is said to be as swift as
Mercury, and the other as slow as a cripple. This is Hyper-
bole, and not Metaphor. For there is no similarity of rela-
tions; it is an exaggeration of degree.

Sometimes it is not easy to see whether there is a
Metaphor or not. Take an instance : " The earth drank
up his blood." Now here there is either a very strong Per-

136 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

sonification, or else there is only the slightest possible
Metaphor, and the context must determine for us which is
the case. Thus, if the context described Gessler dying on
the land that he had oppressed, Switzerland might be
represented as vindictively draining the life-blood of her
oppressor, and this might be a distinct and vivid Personi-
fication. But in most cases the Personification would be
weak or non-existent, and the expression would be no more
than a way of saying that the blood oozed into the earth
almost as rapidly as water disappears when drunk up by
man or beast. There would be little more Metaphor in
this than in saying " a sponge imbibes water."

88. Confusions of Similarity. — There is no Metaphor
in saying that " a man has a cold or warm heart," or " a clear
head," and in many similar expressions. Easily distinguish-
able from genuine metaphors (such as "a stiff-necked gene-
ration"), these pseudo-metaphors are found in all languages,
and they indicate an ancient belief that certain moral qualities
are caused by or identical with certain qualities of the bodily
organs. We still retain many of these old expressions, and
use them in a confused manner, with a certain feeling that
there must be a similarity between cause and effect. Thus
the paleness of cowardice seemed naturally to spring from
" a white liver ; 'n " clear reasoning" seems still the natural
product of a "clear brain;" and, since warmth is genial
and fostering, what can be a more natural explanation of a
man whose conduct is kind and genial than to say that "lie
has a warm heart " ? So we say of a satirist that " his pen

1 Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver d boy.

Macbeth.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR. 137

is steeped in gall." An instance of this natural confusion is
found in Bichard III.'s exhortation to the murderers —

Your eyes drop mill-stones when fools' eyes drop tears.

Here the murderers are instructed to be hard : and nothing
can be more natural than the hyperbole which asserts that
the conduct of hard men bears the impress of hardness, and
that even their tears are of stone.

89. Good and bad Metaphors. — There are certain
laws regulating the formation and employment of Metaphors
which should be borne in mind.

(1.) A Metaphor must not be used unless it is needed for
explanation or vividness, or to throw light upon the thought of
the speaker. Thus the speech of the Gardener in Richard II.,

Go then, and like an executioner

Cut off the heads of our fast-growing sprays, etc.,

is inappropriate to the character of the speaker, and conveys
an allusion instead of an explanation. It illustrates what is
familiar by what is unfamiliar, and can only be justified by
the fact that the gardener is thinking of the disordered con-
dition of the kingdom of England, and the necessity of a
powerful king to repress unruly subjects.

(2.) A Metaphor must not enter too much into detail: for
every additional detail increases the improbability that the
correspondence of the whole comparison can be sustained.
Thus, if King Richard (Richard II.) had been content,
while musing on the manner in which he could count time
by his sighs, to say —

For now hath Time made me his numbering clock.

138 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

there would have been little or no offence against taste. But
when he continue.: —

My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar

Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,

Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.

Now, sir, the sound that tells what hour it is

Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart,

Which is the bell, —

we have an excess of detail which is only justified because it
illustrates the character of one who is always " studying to
compare,"1 and " hammering out" unnatural comparisons.

Sometimes a single word in a Metaphor will suggest a
minute detail far more effectively than a whole sentence would
describe it. Take the word liveries in the following :

Right against the Eastern gate,
Where the great sun begins his state,
Robed in flames and amber bright,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight ;

where this word suggests a comparison between the colours
which the sun bestows upon the attendant clouds and the
liveries of servants bearing the cognizance of their lord. The
morning sun, surrounded by the clouds that reflect his rays,
is compared to a great king or lord issuing from his palace
gate, and accompanied by his attendants, who are clothed in
the liveries that he has given them.

The comical effect produced by excessively minute ela-

1 I have been studying how I may compare
This prison where I live unto the world ;

*****

I cannot do it; yet 111 hammer it out.

Richard II.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR. 139

boration of a metaphor is well illustrated by the following
parody :

Can the quick current of a patriot heart
Thus stagnate in a cold and weedy converse,
Or freeze in tideless inactivity ?
No ! rather let the fountain of your valour
Spring through each narrow stream of enterprise,
Each petty channel of conducive daring,
Till the full torrent of your foaming wrath
O'erwhelm the flats of sunk hostility !

The Critic.

(3.) A Metaphor must not be far -fetched, nor dwell upon the
details of a disgusting picture :

Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin laced with his golden blood ;

there the murderers,

Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech' d icith gore,

Macbeth.

There is but little, and that far-fetched, similarity between
gold lace and blood, or between bloody daggers and breech1 d
legs. The slightness of the similarity, recalling the greatness
of the dissimilarity, disgusts us with the attempted com-
parison. Language so forced is only appropriate in the
mouth of a conscious murderer dissembling guilt.

Of course the same metaphors may be natural in one con-
text and far-fetched in another. For instance, since a tree
inhales and exhales certain gases through the medium of its
leaves, " the leaves are the lungs of a tree " may be a suitable
metaphor in a treatise on natural science, but a poet would
not write —

Spring returns, furnishing the trees with their green lungs.

140 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

Again, for the introspective Hamlet, the " mind's eye" is a
very appropriate and beautiful metaphor ; and Menenius
Agrippa, wrangling with a cobbler, may appropriately call
the latter —

You, the great toe of this assembly.

Even Hamlet, in his lighter mood, may say that his friends
in their moderate prosperity, are " Neither the soles of For-
tune's feet, nor the button on her cap," but scarcely any
context could justify such a metaphor as " the mind's foot,''
or "the mind's toe."

(4.) Two Metaphors must not he confused together, particu-
larly if the action of the one is inconsistent with the action of
the other.

It may be pardonable to surround, as it were, one meta-
phor with another. Thus, fear may be compared to an ague-
fit, and an ague-fit passing away may be compared to the
overblowing of a storm. Hence, " This ague-fit of fear is
overblown" (Richard II.) is justifiable. But

Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since ?

Macbeth.

is, apart from the context, objectionable ; for it makes Hope
a person and a dress in the same breath. It may, however,
probably be justified on the supposition that Lady Macbeth
is playing on her husband's previous expression —

I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

SIMILE AND METAPHOR. 141

(5.) A Metaphor must be ivholly false, and must not combine
truth w i th fa Iseh ood.

" A king is the pilot of the state," is a good metaphor.
" A careful captain is the pilot of his ship," is a bad one.
You may speak of " assailing with the pen," but scarcely
(unless with a touch of humorous irony) of " blackening a
spotless character with his ink." So

Ere my tongue
Shall wound mine honour with such feeble wrong,
Or sound so base a parle,

Richard II.

is objectionable. The tongue, though it cannot " wound,"
can touch. Honour can be wounded intangibly by " slander's
venom'd spear" [Richard II.) ; but, in a metaphor, not so
well by the tangible tongue. " Words " would not have
been open to objection, for " his words wounded my feelings "
suggests nothing literally true. The same objection applies
to

Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill-become the flower of England's face,
Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To scarlet indignation, and bedew
Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.

Richard II.

If England is to be personified, it is England's blood, not the
blood of ten thousand mothers, which will stain her face.
There is also a confusion between the blood which mantles
in a blush and which is shed ; and, in the last line, instead
of " England's face," we come down to the literal " pastures'
grass."

90. Personifications must be regulated by the laws of

142 SIMILE AND METAPHOR.

personality. No other rule can be laid down. But exaggera-
tions like the following must be avoided :

Comets, importing change of times and states,

Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,

And with them scourge the bad revolting stars.

1. Henry VI.

The Furies may be supposed to scourge their prostrate vic-
tims with their snaky hair, and comets have been before
now regarded as scourges in the hand of God. But the
liveliest fancy would be tasked to imagine the stars in re-
volt, and scourged back into obedience by the crystal hair of
comets.

THIRD PART,

CHAPTER I.

METKE.

The arrangement of words has two objects, (1) the convey-
ing of the sense, (2) the giving of pleasure to the ear.

One of the principal modes of giving pleasure by the ar-
rangement of words is Rhythm.

9 1. Rhythm, when appropriate. — Rhythm is a prin-
ciple of proportion introduced into language.

Conversation being necessarily irregular, abrupt, and liable
to interruption, has no leisure for rhythm. Proportion, even
if introduced into conversation, might be broken at any
moment.

Scientific and philosophic writing does not require rhythm,
The reader's mind being in a state of tension, and the writer's
main object being great precision, rhythm appears unneces-
sary and impertinent. The logical sequence of argument
dictates the arrangement of the words, and ought not to be
interfered with by any consideration of pleasure.

But when we talk or write continuously about any subject
that appeals to the passions, we gratify a natural instinct
by falling into a certain regularity. Both the voice and the
arrangement of the words fall under this regular influence :

144 METRE.

the voice is modulated, and the words are regulated in a
kind of flow called rhythm. Without rhythm, the expres-
sion of passion becomes spasmodic and painful, like the
sobbing of a child. Rhythm averts this pain by giving a
sense of order controlling and directing passion. Hence
rhythm is in place wherever speech is impassioned, and
intended at the same time to be pleasurable : and impas-
sioned speech without rhythm is, when long continued, un-
pleasing.

The regularity of rhythm is not so great that it can be
reduced to a law. When it can be reduced to a law, it
loses the name of rhythm, and becomes metre.

92. Metre, when appropriate. — When a subject ex-
cites the feelings very strongly, or when a subject is re-
garded in a very pleasurable manner, the feelings often most
naturally and pleasurably express themselves in song. Not
that we do sing in moments of excessive sorrow, or plea-
surable excitement ; often we have not sufficient self-control,
or sufficient knowledge of music, to do so. But there is a
tendency (varying, as to intensity, in different nations and
in different individuals) to song, as being the most natural
and pleasurable expression of very strong feeling. Xow
just as the voice rises from (a) conversational non-modula-
tion to (b) rhetorical modulation, and from modulation to (c)
singing, so the arrangement of words rises from (a') conver-
sational non-arrangement to (U) rhetorical rhythm, and from
rhythm to {(•/) metre.

The highest passion of all expresses itself, as regards
the sound of the voice, in a shriek or scream, and as regards
the arrangement of words, in the spasmodic non-arrange-
ment of uncontrolled and unrhythmical passion. Un-

METRE. 145

metrical ejaculations are allowable in metre (very often
standing by themselves outside the metre), but the un-
rhythmical expression of intense passion is, when prolonged,
extremely painful, producing pain untempered by any feeling
of artistic pleasure. It is therefore rarely admitted. An
exception is the speech, if it can be so called, of Othello
(Act iv. Sc. 1. 1. 38), just before his fit of epilepsy.

Though metre is peculiarly fitted for the pleasurable ex-
pression of high passion, it can be applied also to subjects
where there is little or no passion, provided that the plea-
surable arrangement of words is in place.

Composition which has only rhythm, or not even that, is
called prose ; composition which has metre is called poetry.

93, Prose and Poetry in Shakspeare serve, as a
rule, for distinct purposes. Prose is used in the dialogue
between servants, and in jest, and in light conversation.
For instance, Falstaff always speaks in prose, even in scenes
where the other characters speak verse. Again, in " Julius
Caesar," Act i. Sc. 2, Casca speaks prose when Brutus and
Cassius speak in verse. Prose is used for letters, and on
other occasions, where it is desirable to give a matter-of-
fact effect. There is rhythm, but not metre, in the following
impassioned letter :

Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my
estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit ; and since in paying it, it is
impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might
but see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure : if your love
do not persuade you to come, let not my letter. — Merchant of Venice.

Often a scene begins with prose in a conversational tone, v
and rises to verse as the feelings become more passionate.
Thus the scene of the bargain, Merchant of Venice, Act i.
Sc. 3, begins

146 METRE.

Shy. Three thousand ducats ; well.
Bass. Ay, sir, for three months ;

and does not become verse till the entrance of Antonio
develops passion in Shylock :

Shy. Who is he comes here ?

Bass. This is Signor Antonio.

Shy. {aside."] How like a fawning publican he looks.

A similar change occurs in the household scene in " Corio-
lanus," Act i. Sc. 3, where the scene begins with prose, then
passes into verse, and finally returns to prose. Another
instance where verse begins and prose follows is in " The
Two Gentlemen of Verona," Act i. Sc. 1. The student should
note other instances, and, where it is possible to do so,
should trace the change of thought corresponding to the
change of language.

One remarkable instance where prose is used instead of
verse is in the speech of Brutus to the populace after the
murder of Cassar. Elsewhere Brutus always speaks verse ;
but in addressing the people, he refuses to ' appeal to their
feelings, and affects a studiously cold and unimpassioned
style. His speech serves in this respect as a useful foil to
Antony's highly impassioned harangue. But even in this
studiously frigid speech it is noticeable how, as soon as the
speaker begins to appeal to the feelings of the audience, he
approaches and finally falls into metre :

As Csesar loved me, I weep for him :

As he was fortunate, I rejoice at it :

As he was valiant, I honour liim :

But, as lie was ambitious, I slew him.

There is teen for his love ; joy for his fortune ;

Honour for his valour ; and death for his ambition.

METEE. 147

So far we have merely rhythm, though rhythm on the
brink of metre : now comes the appeal to the feelings, and
after one line that is all but metre, the rhythm becomes
absolute metre :

Who is here so base that would ( ) be a bondman ?

If any, speak ; for him have I offended.

Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman ?

If any, speak ; for him have I offended.

Who is here so vile that will not love his country ?

If any, speak; for him have I offended.

I pause for a reply.
AIL None, Brutus, none.

Brutus. Then none have I offended.

94. Didactic Poetry. — Although prose seems to us the
most natural style, and poetry might be supposed to be
an invention of civilized and ingenious nations, the truth
is that poetry is earlier and more universal than prose.
So strong was the natural inclination to give form and some
kind of regularity to every " set form" 1 of words, that written
composition assumed at once a metrical form, and prose is
rather the after-thought of a more advanced civilization.
The earliest philosophers hampered themselves with metre,
and their example has been followed in modern times by
a doubtful style, didactic (or teaching) poetry, of which
the most famous example in English literature is Pope's
" Essay on Man." It is only, however, when the subject
requires very precise reasoning, or deals with very dry
abstractions, that any objection can be made to this style.
A subject which excites the feelings will always admit
of high rhythm and of metre so long as it is not handled
too closely. There is a kind of prose composition which is

1 Compare the Latin " carmen."

148 METRE.

essentially didactic, and yet is highly rhythmical ; and there
is a kind of didactic poetry which is to be regarded as the
highest exaltation of this style, e.g., many poems of Words-
worth, and some parts of the " Essay on Man." A specimen
of the false didactic style is Darwin's " Loves of the Plants,"
which should be compared with the burlesque of it in Can-
ning and Frere's " Loves of the Triangles."

95. Language Metrical and Unmetrieal. — As an

example of the difference between metrical and unmetrieal
language, compare

Achilles' wrath to Greece the direful spring

with

The wrath of Achilles, the spring direful to Greece.

The former gives more pleasure to the ear than the latter, by
its superior regularity. In the former the syllables are so
arranged that the first is to the second as the third to the
fourth and the fifth to the sixth, etc. In the latter no law
can be discovered. It is the regularity itself which gives
pleasure. Of what kind the regularity may be is of less
importance, provided that it be readily perceptible. In early
English poetry we find a regularity of a different sort, a
regular recurrence in the first letters of certain accented
syllables :

iucifer with Zegions || Zearned it in | heaven.

And in modern English poetry there is commonly another
regularity by the side of the regularity in accent. Syllables
terminating with the same letters are introduced at regular
distances. These syllables are said to rhyme,

Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumbered, heavenly goddess, sing.

METRE. 149

Here the tenth and twentieth syllables terminate in the same
letters, or rhyme. We proceed, then, to examine the dif-
ferent kinds of metre,

96. Metre, different kinds of. — The regularity on
which Metre, as we have just said, depends, may affect
(a) syllables ; (b) small combinations of syllables, called feet;
(c) combinations of feet, called lines or verses ; (d) combina-
tions of verses, called couplets, stanzas, etc.

i. [a) Syllables may be merely counted, and not classified
at all.

ii. (a) Syllables, e.g., strives, in, might be classified accord-
ing to the time necessary to pronounce them, i.e., their
quantity. This has never been the English system.

iii. (a) Syllables, e.g., the first in Lucifer and Z^gion, may
be classified according to their initial letter, i.e., by allitera-
tion— the ancient English system.

iv. (a) Syllables, e.g., the first and second in happy, may
be classified according as they are pronounced, more (')or
less (N), loudly than the syllables next to them, i.e., accord-
ing to accent.

v. (a) Syllables, e.g., hate and mate, may be classified ac-
cording as they have the same vowel sound (in English the
vowel sound has to be followed by the same, and preceded
by a different, consonantal sound, but this is not necessary
in Spanish), i.e., according to rhyme.

The smallest recurring combination of syllables is called (b)
a Foot. Feet might depend on any of the five classifications
of syllables mentioned above. The following is an example
oifeet depending on classification (iv.), i.e., accent.

Zephyr | with Aur)6ra | playing.

Milton.

150 METRE.

Here an accented syllable is followed by an unaccented one,
and this recurring combination is a foot. The various kinds
of feet will be enumerated in the next paragraph.

A combination of feet (mostly the same feet) for metrical
purposes is called (c) a verse,1 e.g., the line quoted above from
Milton. A combination of verses is called by many different
names, according to the number of verses in the combina-
tion, or according to the recurrence of rhymes. The most
common names are (d) couplet and stanza. A couplet consists
of two verses, a stanza1 of a variable number, but each stanza
in the same poem has generally the same number of verses.

Examples of the different kinds of metre, based upon the
five classifications mentioned above, are :

i. The French Alexandrine (which adds rhyme), owing
to the want of marked accents in French words, approximates
to this.

ii. The Greek and Latin poetry.

iii. Early English Alliterative poetry (which, however,
counts accents).

iv. Blank verse.

v. Doggrel, i.e., when rhyme is used without regard to
the number of accents.

Modern English poetry is based upon (iv.) and (v.), {.*.,
upon accent and rhyme, apart or conjoined; but (ii.) quantity
and (iii.) alliteration, though secondary, yet exercise a consi-
derable influence ; and (i.) the reckoning of the mere number
of syllables imposes certain restrictions.

97. Names of Feet. — The following names of feet, or
measures, are most of them connected with the metres of

1 Sometimes line is used for verse, and verse for stanza, especially in
hymns.

METEE. 151

Greek and Latin poetry, where a foot was estimated by-
quantity, and not by accent. It will be easily borne in mind
that in English poetry, which has rules quite uninfluenced
by quantity, the names of feet denote groups of accented
and non-accented syllables, without reference to quantity.

I. The Monosyllabic Foot, — This is very rare. Coleridge,
in his poem of " Christabel," where, as he says, " in each
line the accents will be found to be only four," may perhaps
have intended

What | sees | she | there ?

to be pronounced slowly as a verse of four monosyllabic
feet, and so of the verse describing the hooting of the owl :

Tu— whit— tu— whoo.

In Cowper's " Loss of the Royal George," each verse has
three accents, which makes it probable that we should read
the italicised syllables as monosyllabic feet in

Toll \for\ the brave.

Weigh | the vess|el tip.

In Chaucer, monosyllabic feet are not uncommon as an
irregular first foot in a disyllabic metre. They are also
common in Shakspeare :

Now | it shin | eth, now | it rain | eth fast.

Chaucer.

Stay, | the king | hath thrown | his ward | er down.

Shakspeare.

II. Disyllabic Feet. — (An unaccented syllable is denoted

byv0

152 METRE.

(1) The accented syllable may come first. Such a foot
may be called the first disyllabic, but it is usually called a
trochee —

Comfort Trochee, or 1st disyllabic.

(2) The accented syllable may come second —

Agree Iambic, or 2nd disyllabic.

III. Trisyllabic feet.

(1). The accented syllable may come first —

Frequently Dactyl, or 1st trisyllabic.

(2). The accented syllable may come second. This foot
is perhaps not required in English poetry.

Keceiving Amphibrach, or 2nd trisyllabic.

(3). The accented syllable may come third.

Colonnade Anapaest, or 3rd trisyllabic.

98. Accent means a loud stress of the voice. Every
English polysyllable has at least one syllable more loudly
pronounced than the syllable or syllables next to it, e.g., the
first in servile, the second in servility. Sometimes two or
more accents are distinctly heard, as in incompatibility,
where there are three, viz., on the first, third, and fifth
syllables.

Accent in Metre, if it fall on any syllable in a word,
must fall on the principal Word- accent. The following is
intended to be faulty :

But wonder on, till truth make all things plain,
This beauteous lady Thisby is certain.

Midsummer Night's Dream, v. 1. 131.

Accent in Metre may fall on syllables that have not a
distinct Word-accent. The following rules are subject to no
exceptions but those which spring from contractions in pro-

METRE. 153

nunciation.i The first applies to Monosyllables as well as
to Polysyllables :

(1) We can never have three consecutive

clearly pronounced Syllables without a
Metrical Accent.

(2) We cannot have two consecutive Syllables
in the same word Metrically Accented.

(3) In Polysyllables, Metrical Accent, if it
falls on more than one Syllable, falls on
alternate Syllables,

Thus we cannot have solitary, interesting. This rule is
subject to many exceptions from slurring or contraction, e.g.,
ted(i)ousness. See 114.

99. Emphasis is a stress laid in speaking on mono-
syllables, or on the accented syllables of polysyllables, for
the purpose of calling attention to the meaning. Emphasis
often means "this and nothing else," e.g., "He did it," i.e.,
"He and no one else."

In good poetry an emphatic monosyllable will generally
receive a metrical accent. But there are exceptions to this
rule which will be given hereafter. See 101, ii., where it is
also shown that unemphatic syllables sometimes receive the
metrical accent.

Meanwhile let it be noted distinctly that when accent in
metre is mentioned hereafter, it is to be remembered that
all accented syllables are not equally emphatic (which
would produce an unpleasant monotony both in conversation
and metre), but only that they are emphatic relative to the
syllables in the same foot.

1 It will be understood that we are speaking of ordinary English poetry
not of the early English alliterative poems.

154 METRE.

100. Accent favours Disyllabic Metre. — This is evi-
dent from a glance at one of the examples in Paragraph 98.
If servile made servility, it would suit trisyllabic metre very-
well, but could never be used as two trochees, or as two
iambs. Thus the word solitary is easily admitted in

Thy foll|y, or | with soljitarly hand ;

Milton,
whereas we could not have

All in a I fishing-boat | out on the | sea,
Hopeless and | helpless and | solitary.

Indeed, words of four syllables, with the principal accent
on the first syllable,1 cannot be used in anapaestic metre,
for the use would enforce disregard of Rule (3) above.
Hence words of more than three syllables are of rare
occurrence in the best examples of this metre, e.g., in
Browning's " Good News from Ghent," and in Cowper's
" Poplars."

101. Accent in Trisyllables and Monosyllables. —

(i.) Trisyllables. — Although there is often little or no more
accent on the third than on the second syllable of a trisyllable,
e.g., urgency, yet the system of accentuation described in
Paragraph 98 is consistently carried out, even in trisyllables,
for metrical purposes. Tivo accents cannot come together in
the same word ; therefore we cannot have urgency ; again,
three unaccented syllables cannot come together ; and therefore
if urgency is followed in metre by an unaccented syllable,
there must be an accent on the y.

In trisyllabic metre a dactyl, e.g., merrily, would be fol-
lowed by an accented syllable :

Je.g., Interesting.

METEE. 155

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough ;

Tlie Tempest.

and therefore the poetic accent on -y would not be required.
But in disyllabic metre, the accent on -y is necessary if the
word is fully pronounced, as in

Full merrily the humble bee doth sing.

Troilus and Cressida.

The same accent is allowed in disyllabic metre when the
word comes at the end of the line :

Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily.

Julius Ccesar.

(ii.) Monosyllables. — Again the same rule holds good. All
monosyllables are, in themselves, for the purposes of metre,
neutral, and can be used either with or without the Metrical
Accent. (See 112.) But since three unaccented syllables
cannot come together, any monosyllable, however unemphatic,
that comes betiveen two unaccented monosyllables, must receive
a Metrical Accent in disyllabic metre.

Examples are very common in all poets :

That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace.

Shakspeare.

But fooPd by hope, men favour the deceit.

Dryden.

Oh, weep for Adona^s. The quick dreams.

Shelley.

Then tore with bloody talon the rent plain.

Byron.

O'er the four rivers the first roses blew.

Tennyson.

The mother of manendi, what time his pride.

Milton,

156 METRE.

With joy and love triumphing * and fair truth.

Milton."

The examples above quoted bring out another rule : when
two emphatic monosyllables come together, and one of them
receives the metrical accent, the other may be without the
metrical accent. Thus quick, rent, first, man, fair, in the
above examples are all emphatic, more emphatic certainly
than the, and, a, which receive the metrical accent ; but,
since quick precedes a metrically accented monosyllable, quick
is allowed to remain unaccented.

It will be noticed that in all these instances an unemphatic
accent is folloived by an emphatic non-accented syllable. This
sequence, so common in our best poets, seems not to be
mere accident. The lightness of the unemphatic accent
is perhaps compensated by the length and emphasis of the
following unaccented syllable.

By a rule similar to the above, one or two emphatic syl-
lables in trisyllabic metre are left unaccented after a Metrical
Accent :

The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves.

Cowper.2

102. Pope's Use of the Unemphatic Accent.— The

accent falls more easily on an unemphatic monosyllable
when the syllable preceding it is still less emphatic. Now
when the last syllable of a polysyllable is unaccented, it is
likely to be less emphatic than a monosyllable. For example,
the -ing in trembling and the -ure in pleasure are less emphatic
than you, he, do, of, to, etc. Hence, where the metre is
strict, as in Pope, the unemphatic accent on a monosyllable
follows most pleasingly after a polysyllable. Thus the foot

1 Milton thus accents the word, not triumphing.
3 See page 212, Note.

METRE. 157

is cut into two parts belonging to different words. This
cutting is called ccesura : and cmsura is very common in Pope
before an unemphatic accent on a monosyllable :

That secret to each fool, that he's an ass.

Pope.

Make satire a lampoon, and fiction lie.

lb.

Smit with the mighty pleasure to be seen.

lb.

Soon as thy letters trembly I unclose.

lb.

I view my crime, but kindZe tit the view.

lb.

'Tis sure the hardest science to forget.

lb.

Often, though a monosyllable precedes, it is so closely
connected with some other word as really to form a kind
of compound polysyllable :

Offend-her, and she knows not to forgive ;
Oblige-her} and she'll hate you while you live.

Pope.

Where there is no ccesura, the accent often begins the
verse in Pope :

(a) Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings and in a moment flies.

Pope.

(b) Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be pressed.

lb.

(d) Health to himself, and to his infants bread.

lb.

158 METRE.

(e) Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs.

Pope,

We may safely assert that Pope would not have written
such a line as

The lone couch of his everlasting sleep.

Shelley.

103. Dubious Monosyllabic Accent.— In the five cases
last quoted, the accent of the monosyllable is doubtful,
for it is uncertain whether and to, at a, and as are iambics or
trochees. It will be seen (129, 138) that in disyllabic metre
a trochee can be substituted for an iamb, not only at the
beginning of a verse, but also in the middle of the verse
after a pause :

Alike my scorn, if he succeed or fail,
Sporus at court, or Japhet in a jail.

Pope.

The use of the trochee in the middle of the verse is not
so common in Pope as in Shakspeare and Milton : but as
all the five lines above quoted1 begin unquestionably with a
trochee, it seems as though the initial trochee in the examples
of the last paragraph was intended to prepare the way for a
following trochee. On that supposition the accent will be
placed on the first syllable in each of the fiwo examples, <v/.,
and to, not and t6.

104. The Third Accent often unemphatic in Pope.

— Partly the recurrence of the unemphatic accent in the same
position, and partly the almost invariable ccesura, give to
many passages in Pope the effect of a metre altogether dis-
tinct from that of other writers :

i Paragraph 102(c), {&), (*),(<*),(«).

METRE. 159

Foot.

2 How happy is the blameless vestal's lot,

3 The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
3 Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind,

3 Each prayer accepted and each wish resigned ;

Labour and rest that equal periods keep ;
3 Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep.

3 Grace shines around- her with serenest beams,

And whispering angels prompt her golden dreams.

Pope.

105. The use of Unemphatic Accents is to break
the monotony which would beset a long continuous poem in
the five-accent iambic metre, written with the regular in-
cisiveness which characterizes the rhyming couplet. Hence
Mr. Morris, who uses the rhyming couplet in his " Life and
Death of Jason," and in some other poems, avoiding the usual
effect of the metre, introduces the unemphatic accent very
freely, together with long and emphatic unaccented mono-
syllables :

(a) Upon the floor the fresh-plucked roses fall.

(&) In hot chase of the honey-loving beast.

So also

The lone couch of his everlasting sleep.

Shelley.1

106. Emphatic Accents. — It is impossible to lay down
any rule as to the number of emphatic accents in a verse;
but it is important that in reading we should allow emphasis
as well as accent to exert its influence ; otherwise the verse
becomes intolerably monotonous. Occasionally we meet with
a line where all the accents seem nearly on a par, as regards
the weight of emphasis attaching to each.

1 It may be a question whether some of these iambs should not be scanned
as trochees. See 103, 129, 138.

160 METEE.

But look, the morn in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.

Hamlet,

But such lines are few in dramatic poetry. The mere pre-
sence of words with two metrical accents, as " honourable "
necessitates some inequality of emphasis. In the rhyming
couplet we may expect to find the full number of emphatic
accents more frequently, for a very obvious reason. The
rhyming couplet tends to antithesis, and antithesis involves
emphasis. Four emphatic antithetical accents with one
unemphatic accent on some copulative word are very com-
mon, but not unfrequently a line has five emphatic accents.

Who sees with equal eye, as Lord of all,
4 A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,

4 Atoms or systems into ruin hurled,

5 And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

Pope.

Probably " burst" is somewhat less emphatic than the
other accented syllables. Indeed, as there are many dif-
ferent degrees of emphasis, it would be necessary, in strict
correctness, to denote the difference of accent by more than
two different signs. Thus :

The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.

Julius Caesar.

Such distinctions, however, are a matter of taste, and
different readers would render the lines somewhat differently.
Probably the last line in the following couplet would be
admitted by all to have five emphatic accents :

Should at my feet the world's great master fall,
Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn 'cm all.

Pope.

METRE. 161

So also the following :

How often hope, despair, rese'nt, regret.

Pope.

Renounce my love, my life, myself, and you.

lb.

In the following, the unaccented syllables are, many of

them, as emphatic as the accented :

Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death.

Milton.

107. The number of unaccented syllables in each
foot is not invariable, even in the same metre. Strictly,
there should be (a) one unaccented syllable in each foot of
disyllabic metre, and (b) in each foot of trisyllabic metre,
two.

(b) The latter limit (see 98) is never exceeded ; three un-
accented syllables cannot be found together in any English
metre, if they are all fully pronounced. But sometimes we
have an iamb for an anapaest in trisyllabic metre, i.e., one
instead of two unaccented syllables. Thus :

The p6p\lars are felled, j farewell | to the shade.

Coivper.

(a) In disyllabic metre we have,

i. Monosyllabic feet for disyllabic ; but this is rare,
ii. Trisyllabic feet for disyllabic :

The multitudinous sea incarnadine.

Macbeth,,

This is much more common, but it is not practised
indiscriminately. Eules regulating the practice will be
mentioned hereafter. See 94. This use of trisyllabic feet
adds much to the variety and expressiveness of the disyl-

162 METRE.

labic metre. It is rejected by the symmetry of epigram, but
is admirably adapted for dramatic verse.

The right of ignoring the number of syllables in a verse,
provided that the number of accents is complete, is
enunciated and claimed by Coleridge in the preface to
" Christabel." His words are these: "The metre is founded
on a new principle, that of counting in each line the accents,
not the syllables. Though the latter may vary from seven
to twelve, yet in each line the accents will be found to
be only four." Hence it appears that even in the fullest
adoption of the license of extra syllables, Coleridge never
exceeds twelve syllables for four accents, i.e., three syllables
to an accent, which is the rule laid down above. A fourth
syllable cannot be inserted unless it is completely suppressed
in pronunciation. Thus, Coleridge could not have written
and 'pronounced "it is " for " 'tis," nor could he have in-
serted an unemphatic monosyllable, e.g., " long," before
" night," as in the following line :

It is the mid|dle of the long night | by yonder cast|le clock.

This would have been intolerable. The metre would have
degenerated into rhythm, and the poetry into prose. It
should be added that the principle here enunciated by
Coleridge as " new," is very old ; upon it is based the allite-
rative poetry of early English, as will be seen hereafter.

108. The Prevalent Foot. — Disyllabic metre may con-
tain trisyllabic feet, and vice versa. Hence we cannot always
at once determine whether a metre is intended to be trisyllabic
or disyllabic. The metre is determined by the prevalent foot,
and that cannot always be ascertained till a few lines have
been read. Thus in Michael Drayton's " Agincourt " we

METRE. 163

might read the first three lines, and not perceive the metre
till the fourth :

Fair stood the wind for France,
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance,
Longer will tarry.

Here it might naturally be supposed, from the first three
lines, that the second-disyllabic metre with three accents
was intended; but the fourth line, which is clearly trisyllabic,
makes it doubtful whether the first three lines should not be
treated as trisyllabic with two accents :

Fair stood the | wind for France.

The metre seems to be the same as

Speak ! speak ! thou | fearful guest,
Who with thy | hollow breast
Still in rude | armour drest,

Comest to | daunt me.

Longfellow.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them,
Volleyed and thundered.

Tennyson.

Again, in Cowper's beautiful trisyllabic poem, " The Poplar
Field," it would be possible, but for the prevalence of the tri-
syllabic foot, to scan the following line disyllabically, using
the ordinary dramatic license of contraction :

And now | i' th' grass | behold | they're laid.

But the prevalence of the trisyllabic foot makes it obvious that
we must scan, —

And now | in the grass | behold | they are laid.

164 METRE.

109. Rhyme. — Syllables are said to rhyme when they are
identical from the vowel to the end. Syllables altogether
identical do not rhyme, nor syllables in which the vowel is
different; e.g., confine and define do not rhyme, nor do
height and straight, though they have four letters identical,
but sky and try rhyme, though they have only one. Prac-
tically all single rhymes (see 111) must be accented. Hence
though ling rhymes with king, yet ling in ruling is not used
to rhyme with king in walking.

But as rhyme is intended to gratify the ear, not the eye,
when words are pronounced in one way and spelt in another,
their rhymes are the words which correspond with them in
pronunciation, not in spelling. Thus iceight does not rhyme
with height, and does rhyme with straight, wait, and date.
This rule is broken in the following :

Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,
While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.

In Italian, words identical in sound, and even in spelling,
are allowed as rhymes, when their meaning is different.
Milton has followed this when he makes

The better part with Mary and with Ruth
rhyme with

No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth ;

and Tennyson, when he makes

The holly by the cottage cave
rhyme with

And sadly falls our Christmas eve.1
In these instances, however, the rhymes are distant from

1 Altered in the last edition.

METRE. 165

each other. It would be difficult to produce from a good
writer many instances of this license in a couplet ; though,
even in a couplet, Wordsworth makes " sense " and " inno-
cence " rhyme together.

Note that (though in some parts of England the r in morn,
and other words, is nearly dropped), it is not allowable to
make dawn rhyme with morn, nor Thalia with liar.

110. Faults in Rhyming. — In rhyming there are two
opposite defects. The one is that of using words which are
not appropriate, or not the most appropriate, for the sake of
the rhyme. The other is that of inexactness in the rhyme
itself. As the English language is not very rich in rhymes,
few writers have altogether avoided both defects. Examples
of the first are frequent in Scott :

I do not rhyme to that dull elf
Who cannot picture to himself, —

where the supposed reader bears no real resemblance to an
elf ; — or again :

To Rokeby next he louted low,
Then stood erect his tale to show.

' To show ' a tale, for ' to tell ' it, is not English.

Inexact rhymes are allowed to some extent by almost all
poets, e.g., love and prove, join and line. Sometimes, how-
ever, rhymes which are now inexact, were not so when they
were made, e.g.,

But still the great have kindness in reserve ,
He helped to bury whom he helped to starve,

was probably exact in Pope's time, reserve being pronounced

166 METRE.

resarve.1 And the same is probably true of love and prove,
join and line.

A rhyme, or approximation to rhyme, where rhyme is not
expected, has a bad effect. It is perhaps introduced for the
sake of intentional harshness in

Who writes to make his barrenness appear,
And strains from hard-bound brains ten lines a year ;

Pope.
and perhaps in

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature.

Rich. III. i. 1.19.

But it is difficult to avoid an unpleasant effect in

Prince. Is it upon record, or else reported

Successively from age to age he built it ?
Buck. Upon record, my gracious lord. — lb. iii. 1. 74.

Milton expressly objects to the harsh repetition in the
words " teach each." 2

111. Double Rhyme. — Sometimes the rhyme is not in
the last syllable, but in the last but one, as "coward" and
Howard." In this case the final so-called rhyme cannot,
strictly speaking, be called a rhyme at all, because the conso-
nant before the final vowel in each case being the same, w,
there is an identity of sound, not a similarity or rhyme. The
penultimate syllables rhyme, and the ultimate are identical.

What can ennoble sots, or fools, or coward*,

Alas ! not all the blood of all the Hoicards. — Pope.

1 Starve itself is connected with the German stcrben, and in early
English is spelt stcrve.

2 "The Remonstrant, when he was as young as I, could —

' Teach each hollow grove to sound his love,
Wearying echo with one changeless word.' M
And so he well might, and all his auditory besides, with his " teach each."

METRE. 167

Whether the charmer sinner it or saint it,
If folly grow romantic, I must paint it.

Pope.

However, it is usual to call this kind of rhyme a double
rhyme.

The accent in double rhymes is always on the penultimate,
and the effect produced by ending with an unaccented
syllable is to modify the severe decisiveness which often cha-
racterizes the termination of the single rhyme. Hence, the
double rhyme is often used in amusing satire, e.g., Butler's
" Hudibras " and in lighter poetry, e.g. " Alexander's Feast,"
to represent the gentler effects of music :

Softly sweet in Lydian measures
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures,
War, he sung, is toil and trouble,
Honour but an empty bubble.

Dryden.

Hence, also, it is selected in the well-known parody of the

softer style of poetry, called a " Song, by a person of

quality " :

Mild Arcadians, ever blooming,

Nightly nodding o'er your flocks,
See my weary days consuming
All beneath yon flowery rocks.

Pope..

Even double rhymes are a severe tax and strain on the

writer, and cannot be sustained throughout a long poem.

Treble rhymes are still rarer, and never used except in

comic poetry, and there as a tour deforce.

Then why to courts should I repair,

Where's such ado with Townshend: \
To hear each mortal stamp and swear,

And every speech with " Zounds'' end ;
To hear them rail at honest Sunderland,
And rashly blame the realm of Blunderland.

Pope.

168 METRE.

The double rhyme is, however, often introduced in Odes,
where the metre is much varied, and here it has not
necessarily its usual subdued effect of humour or grace :

Now strike the golden lyre again :

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain !

Break his bonds of sleep asunder,

And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder.

Dry den — " Alexander's Feast."

In Tennyson's Ode on the " Death of the Duke of
Wellington," the double rhyme is freely used :

Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore ?
Here, in streaming London's central roar.
Let the sound of those he wrought for,
And the feet of those he fought for,
Echo round his bones for evermore.

112. Quantity is the time necessary to pronounce a syl-
lable distinctly. Thus the quantity of " strives " is said to be
long compared with the quantity of "in," which is said to
be short. Quantity has quite a secondary position in
English metre. In some languages syllables are divided
by certain rules into long and short, and metre consists of
long and short syllables recurring in certain positions. In
English metre, quantity is almost ignored. Thus, though
the last syllable in Egypt is long (if distinctly pronounced),
yet, being unaccented, it is treated like any other unaccented
syllable, without reference to its length.

In practice, quantity influences the position of words to
some extent, because, if syllables that are long are placed in
unaccented positions, a harsh and laboured effect is given to
the line. This is sometimes a fault, but sometimes it is an
intentional effect, as in the following couplet of Pope, which
exemplifies and describes a " labouring line" :

METEE. 169

Shakspeare, to some extent, and still more Milton, Shelley,

and many other poets, are very fond of using monosyllables

without the metrical accent, however long their quantity may

be:

Our colours do return in those same hands

That did | display | them when | we first | march'd forth.

Shakspeare.

O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare,
With head, | hands, wings, | or feet | pursues | his way.

Milton.

Gentle, and brave, and generous, no lorn bard,
Breath'd o'er his dark fate one melodious sigh.

Shelley.

In some cases, difficulties may present themselves in
Elizabethan poetry which arise from the difference between
the Elizabethan and modern accents. When two mono-
syllables are compounded into one word, the latter mono-
syllable, however long in quantity, loses its accent, and in-
deed sometimes much of its quantity, e.g., mdin-s'l (the
nautical equivalent for mainsail). Some words, e.g., good-
man, were recognized as compounds once, but are not now :
others are recognized as compounds now, e.g., bed-time, but
perhaps were not yet recognized generally then. This refers
merely to monosyllables in compound disyllables. There are
other differences of accent in polysyllables between the
Elizabethan and the modern usage ; but these must be made
the subjects of special study.

170 METRE.

The difference between Milton and Pope is very marked
in the use of long syllables. Milton, with the evident
intention of avoiding anything like epigrammatic point at
the end of his lines, frequently introduces at the end two
monosyllables, of which the first, which is unaccented, is
long in quantity. The effect is to take something from the
sharpness of the final accent. Thus we find as verse-endings
"soft lays," "fair truth," "frail man," "strange fire."
For a similar reason Shakspeare rather avoids, at the end of
a line, disyllabic words accented on the last syllable, e.g.,
remain. The accent is too marked for continuous dramatic
verse. Shakspeare often uses trisyllables, which, owing to
the weakness of the final accent, are avoided by Pope.

113, Exaggeration of the Effect of Quantity on
English Metre. — If quantity were the exclusive considera-
tion in English metre, it would be possible to divide each line
into a certain number of parts of time called measures : and
in each measure as many syllables might be compressed as
could be pronounced in the time assigned to the measure.
Thus, as music is divided into bars, and a bar may be filled
with one, or two, or three, or four, or almost any number
of distinct notes, subject to this condition, that, whether
the notes be one or eight in number, the time occupied in
producing the notes in each bar shall be always the same, so a
similar system might (if quantity were the standard of metre)
be adopted in poetry. As in music one minim takes as
much time as two crotchets or four quavers, so a word like
strires might be said to occupy the same time as earning or
solitary, and (on this theory) such words might be inter-
changed without interference with the metrical effect. But
this theory cannot be supported by the literature of English

METRE. 171

poetry. No instance whatever could be given where a mea-
sure of eight or twelve syllables in one instance corresponded
to a measure of two syllables in another. Moreover in
poetry, the so-called measures are not pronounced in the
same time. Thus, in

Rocks, caves, | lakes, fens, | bogs, dens, | and shades | of death,

1 2 3 4 5

Milton.
(1), (2), and (3) take much more time than (4) or (5).

It is therefore more in accordance with truth, in explaining
any English metre, to state definitely the law of accent, i.e.,
whether the accent recurs as a rule with an interval of one
or two unaccented syllables. As a supplementary explana-
tion, it may be added that some syllables are so little noticed
in pronunciation, that they are (1) either totally suppressed,
as is the case always with superfluous syllables in the tri-
syllabic, and often in the disyllabic, metre, or (2) admitted as
a rare but pleasing variety, not sufficiently irregular to break
the general effect of the metre, which sometimes takes place
in the disyllabic metre, but not in the trisyllabic.

114. Slurred Syllables are syllables which are so little
noticed in pronunciation that they are either ignored in
metre, or are not considered noticeable enough to be objec-
tionably intrusive when they come irregularly and super-
fluously in disyllabic metre. There are degrees of slurring,
differing so slightly from one another that it is often im-
possible to say whether a slurred syllable is heard a little,
or not heard at all. For instance, the e in " whispering "is
slurred, but probably not wholly ignored (and, indeed, it is
almost impossible to avoid uttering a slight vowel sound) in

By ivhisp'\ring winds | soon lull'd | asleep.

Milton.

172 METRE.

But in the following line, written in the stricter trisyllabic
measure, it is not slurred :

And the whis\pering sound | of the cool | colonnade.

Coivper.

It would be useless to attempt to divide all slurred sylla-
bles into those which are not pronounced at all, and those
which are but slightly pronounced, because different persons
will differ in their pronunciation of many of these syllables.
Some syllables are entirely ignored, even in prose, e.g., -ed
final, except after dentals. The double sound in -tion is also
scarcely audible, and is by some declared to be always inau-
dible. But betwixt this complete suppression and the ordinary
sound of an unaccented syllable, there are many degrees
of suppression, as in " timorous," "popular," " heavenly,"
"glorious," "beneath," "travellers," "misery." If we attempt
to classify these degrees, we are met with a difficulty. We
might indeed say with truth that, at the present time, the e
in heavenly is more nearly suppressed than the u in popular.
But at different periods in English literature the pronuncia-
tion appears to have differed, and certainly there has been a
difference in the poetic usage of slurring. Very often the
suppression or slurring of a syllable was indicated by the
spelling. In the early editions of Milton's Poems we find
tim'rous, whisp'ring, and the like. But we cannot infer from
the contracted spelling that the syllable omitted was totally
suppressed. For though we still write o'er and e'er in
poetry, yet the sound is not, and cannot be, totally sup-
pressed in o'er, for example. It is therefore best to use
some term such as slvrred to apply to all such syllables,
without attempting tc decide what is the degree of slurring.

The license of slurring syllables was more freely used by

METRE. 173

Shakspeare and his contemporaries than it is by modern
writers. Prefixes were often suppressed, even in writing,
which we could not now suppress. Thus the Elizabethan
dramatists wrote 'stroy for destroy, 'tide for decide, 'stall for
install, a license which we mostly restrict now to prepositions,
such as 'neath, 'twisct. Of, in, with, whether, and the were
often written respectively o\ i\ wi\ ivhe'er, and th\ and the
rapidity of their pronunciation and their power of combining
syllables may be illustrated by " God be with you," con-
tracted into " God be wi' ye," and then into " good-bye."
Milton, though he allows himself less license, is fond of
eliding the final -y before a following vowel :

Sometimes other vowel sounds are elided by him :

{a) By herjald's voice | explain'd; | the h6U\ow dbjss.

(b) May I | express | thee unblamed, | since God | is light ?

It is impossible here to state the limitations which restricted
the Elizabethan license of slurring ; they must be made the
subject of special study. But as regards modern poetry
there is not the same necessity for study. The ear is the
sole guide. Wherever we find that extra syllables do not
destroy the requisite amount of regularity, they may be
safely inserted.

115. Pause in Blank Verse. — A verse of six accents, if
broken into two equal halves by a marked pause, approxi-
mates to two distinct verses, e.g.,

174 METRE.

T he veins pour back the blood, | and fortify' the heart.

Dryden.

In verses of five accents, the effect is somewhat different,
but it is no less important. As the number of accents is
uneven, the verse cannot be divided into two equal parts ;
but by a judicious variation of the pause, the verses can be
broken into sections, which are free from the monotony that
would attend a continuous poem in pauseless verses of five
accents. "Where there is no rhyme, a great deal of the
beauty of the rhythm depends upon the variation of the
pause ; and if the pause be neglected in reading, much of
the rhythmical effect is lost. Some of the best examples of
this variation are found in Milton, one of which will now be
given. Opposite each line is a number denoting the number
of feet that precede the pause.

1 Till even; | nor then | the sol|emn nightjingale

1J Ceased wdrb\ling, but | all night | tuned her | soft lays :

1, 4^ Others, | on silv|er lakes | and riv|ers, bathed

1 Walk'd firm : \ the crest|ed cock | whose clar|ion sounds

3 (?) Of rainjbows and j starry eyes.

Paradise Lost.

The pauses denoted by 1 and If are very common in Milton,
and very uncommon in Pope. They break the epigrammatic
regularity of a rhyming couplet, but afford a pleasing irre-
gularity in blank verse. Tennyson often uses the latter.

METRE. 175

3£ Not less | Geraint | believed | it ; and | there fell

2J A horr]or on | him, lest | his gent|le wife,

No pause. Thro' that | great tend|erness | for Gum evere,

1J Had si\f\fer'd, or | should sufjfer an|y taint

1^ In nature: wherejfore go|ing to | the king

2^ He made | this pretext, that | his princedom lay

No pause. Close on | the bordjers of | a terr|itory

3 Wherein | were band|it earls, \ and cait|iff knights,

1J Assassins, and | all fly|ers from | the hand

*i Ofjust\ice, and | whatever loathes | a law.

The 4| pause is also very common in Tennyson :

Once for wrong done you by confusion ; next
For thanks, it seems, till now neglected ; last
For these your dainty gambols.

Tennyson.

116. Pause in Pope. — It has been said also that the 1|
pause is very rare in Pope. But where the irregularity is
in place, as, for instance, in describing the restless Atossa,
we find it repeated consecutively :

The most common pauses in Pope are 2 and 2|, and more
rarely 3 ; 1 is rare, and 1\ rarest of all. Though it is
impossible to lay down any rule regulating the pauses, yet it
is probably true that the pause 2, which is iambic, is
better fitted for didactic and severe epigram, while 2J,
which gives a trochaic effect, is adapted for description and
the expression of sentiment, or for less serious epigram. In
a passage of any length the two are interspersed; but in
some of the short epigrammatic maxims most commonly
quoted from Pope, the pause 2 is repeated.

176 METRE.

(a) .Some err in that, but many err in this.
Ten censure ill, for one who writes amiss.
2 (b) J For forms of faith, let graceless zealots fight
] He can't be wrong, whose life is in the right.
(c) Here then we rest : the Universal Cause
^ Acts to one end, but acts by various laws.

Who starves by nobles, or with nobles eats ?

The wretch that trusts them, and the rogue that cheats ?

Note how the general and didactic passes, in the following
passage, into the particular and descriptive, and remark the
corresponding change of pause :

( See the same man, in vigour and in gout ;
Iambic Pause | Alone, in company, in place, or out ;

Trochaic Pause

(Early at business, and at hazard late,
Mad at a fox- chase, wise at a debate ;
Drunk at a borough, civil at a ball,
Friendly at Hackney, faithless at Whitehall.

On the contrary, note how the descriptive passes into the
moral with the corresponding change in pause, in

m t- • t> f Vice is a monster of so frightful mien
Trochaic Pause \ f

I As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ;

Iambic Pause i Yet seen to° oft' famaiar with her face>

I We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

In description, however, the pause is more varied, as in the
following example, where note the final couplet with two
lines identical in form, both containing iambic pause, which
adds intensity to the epigrammatic sting. The final couplet
is the more effective because it is immediately preceded by
lines with the trochaic pause, and by pauseless lines :

2 Peace to all such ! But were there one whose fires

2£ True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires ;

No pause. Blest with each talent and each art to please,

METRE.

177

2 & 3 And born to write, converse, and live with ease :

2 Should such a man, too fond to rule alone,

\ & 2 Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne,

2£ View him with scornful yet with jealous eyes,

2 And hate for arts that caus'd himself to rise ;

2 Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer,

2J And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer ;

2 Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike,

2 Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike ;

No pause. Alike reserved to blame or to commend,

2 A tim'rous foe, and a suspicious friend,

2 Dreading ev'n fools, by flatterers besieged,

2J And so obliging, that he ne'er obliged,

1^ Like Cato, give his little senate laws,

No pause. And sit attentive to his own applause,

No pause. While wits and Templars every sentence raise,

No pause. And wonder with a foolish face of praise

2 Who but must laugh, if such a man there be,

2 Who but must weep, if Atticus were he ?

117. Pause in Dryden, — Effective and unsurpassable as
these lines are in their peculiar style, they are somewhat
artificial. The style of Dryden, which is no less vigorous
and more natural than that of Pope, seems better suited for
a continuous poem. Though there are more pauseless lines
in Dryden, yet the monotony is not excessive.

No pause. Of these the false Achitophel was first,

No pause. A name to all succeeding ages curst :

No pause. For close designs and crooked counsels fit,

1 J & 2 Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit.

1 Restless, unfixed in principles and place,

2 In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace.
2 A fiery soul, which, working out its way,

No pause. Fretted the pigmy body to decay,

No pause. And o'er informed the tenement of clay.

No pause. A daring pilot in extremity,

2J Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high,

2 He sought the storms : but, for a calm unfit

No pause. Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit.

178 METKE.

Again :

No pause. Some of their chiefs were princes in the land ;

No pause. In the first rank of these did Zimri stand,

No pause. A man so various that he seemed to be

1 Not one, but all mankind's epitome :
2J Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong",

3 Was everything by starts, and nothing long ;

No pause. But, in the course of one revolving moon,

\\ & 2J Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon ;

2J & 3J & 4J Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinking,

No pause. Beside ten thousand freaks that died in thinking :

\\ Blest madman, who could every hour employ

2 With something new to wish or to enjoy !
No pause. Railing and praising were his usual themes,

1 & 3J And both, to show his judgment, in extremes :
No pause. So over- violent or over-civil,
No pause. That every man with him was God or Devil.

118. Compensation of Pauses. — Where there is an ex-
cess of pauses in one line, a kind of compensation is ob-
tained by avoiding all pause, or, at all events, the usual
pause in the other line of the couplet :

(a) Here files of pins extend their shining rows,
Puffs, powders, patches, bibles, billets-doux.

(b) Pretty ! in amber to observe the forms

Of hairs, or straws, or dirt, or grubs, or worms.

(d) I only wear it in a land of Hectors,
Thieves, supercargoes, sharpers, and directors.

(e) The courtly Talbot, Somers, Sheffield read ;
Even mitred Rochester would nod the head.

The following exceptions are intentionally harsh :

METRE. 179

(a) In puns, or politics, or tales, or lies,

Or spite, or smut, or rhymes, or blasphemies.
His wit all see-saw, between " that " and " this,"
Now high, now low, now master up, now miss.

(b) What ! Like Sir Richard, rumbling, rough, and fierce,
With arms, and George, and Brunswick crowd the verse ;
Rend with tremendous sound your ears asunder,

With gun, drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder ?

119, Introductory Pause. — The above remarks are in-
tended to call the reader's attention to the importance of the
pause, and to the necessity of regarding it in reading. To
trace and describe in detail rules that may have been
observed by certain poets would be a complicated and not a
very profitable task. It may be sufficient to show that the
2| pause, which has been said to be suitable for introducing
a subject, is a favourite prelude for a simile.

(a) As some lone miser, visiting his store, etc.

Goldsmith.

(b) As some fair female, unadorned and plain, etc.

lb.

In both the two following examples the pause in the second
line is 1, while it is 2| in the first, and the effect is singularly
beautiful.

As some fair tulip, by a storm opprest,
Shrinks up, and folds its silken arms to rest.

Dry den,
So tivo hind turtles, when a storm is nigh,
Look up, and see it gathering in the sky.

lb.

120. The Pause in Descriptive Poetry. — The unfit-
ness of conjunctions for poetic diction increases the need of
pauses, and makes the pause more marked, especially in a
description comprising many distinct objects, each of which

180 METRE.

must be briefly mentioned. The following passage from
Spenser illustrates the importance of the pause in such cases.
For the most part Spenser does not apparently take much
pains to vary the pause, and many verses have no pause at
all ; but here, if the same pause which is repeated in the first
three verses had been continued longer, the monotony would
have been disagreeable, and therefore the pause is most
carefully varied :

No pause. Much 'gan they praise the trees so straight and high, —

2 The sapling Pine ; the Cedar proud and tall ;

2 The vine-propp Elm ; the Poplar never dry ;

2 The buildder Oake, sole king of forrests all ;

3 The Aspine good for staves ; the Cypresse funerall ;
1J The Laurell, meed of mighty conquerours

2 And poets sage ; the Firre that weepeth still ;

1^ The Willow, worne of forlorne Paramoures;

1 The Eugh, obedient to the bender's will ;

2 The Birche for shaftes ; the Sallow for the mill ;

1 The Mirrhe, sweet-bleeding in the bitter wound ;

2 The warlike Beech : the Ash for nothing ill ;
2J The fruitful Olive ; and the Platane sound ;

2 The carver Holme : the Maple seldom inward sound.

121. The Pause at the end of the line is almost
essential to the couplet, and it is generally to be found in
dramatic blank verse. But in descriptive blank verse, and
in some of the plays of Shakspeare, it is sometimes dis-
pensed with :

When, to enshrine his reliques in the Sun's
Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies.

Milton.

I know not : but I'm sure 'tis safer to

Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.

Winter's Tale.

The following, in the rhyming couplet, is an exception :

METRE. 181

But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays,
One flood of glory, one unclouded blaze
O'erfloiv thy courts, the light himself shall shine
Revealed, and God's eternal day be thine.

The Messiah.

122. Alliteration is not, like accent, recognized in theory
as an essential requisite of poetry. Yet in practice some
kind of alliteration forms a noticeable feature in all the best
English poets, and especially in poetry that has taken the
popular fancy. Take as examples two well-known hymns :

(a) Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
iook upon a Zittle child,
Pity my simplicity,

Suffer me to come to Thee.

(b) Sun of my soul, thou Saviour dear,
It is not mght, if Thou be near.

In the verse of Dryden the alliteration is often as obvious
and simple as in the above examples :

(a) .Deep in a dungeon was the captive cast,

Deprived of day, and held in/etters/ast;

(&) Then day and darkness in the mass were mixed,

Till #ather'd in a globe the beams were fixed.

Pope seldom indulges in this obvious kind of consecutive
alliteration repeated in both lines of the couplet. He con-
ceals it, for the most part, more carefully, by separating the
words. The following are exceptional in him :

(a) Alas, no more ! methinks we icandering go
Thro' dreary wastes, and tceep each other's woe.

(b) Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiven.

The following examples represent a more common type
of the alliteration in Pope :

182 METRE.

(a) And 7*eals with morals what it /jurt with wit.

{b) May every JBavius have his .Bufo still.

(<?) Is there a parson, much ftemus'd in 5eer,
A maudlin poetess, a rhyming ^peer ?

123. Concealed Alliteration.— More often alliteration
is still more subtly concealed. Thus in the following lines of
Milton there is a double alliteration that might escape notice
because the alliterative words are separated from one
another ; but the effect is singularly beautiful.

The air
f P > f P- -floats as they j^ass, /ann'd with unnumber'd flumes :

From branch to branch, the smaller birds with song
$, xo ; s, zv. Solaced the tcoo&s, and spread their painted icings

Till even. Paradise Lost.

d, m; d, m. Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

Richard III.

sp, I ; sp,'l. So speechless for a Zittle space he ?ay.

Dry den.

Or, again, there may be alliteration between the words that
are the extremes and means of a kind of verbal proportion :

h, t, h. The 7iallow'd faper trembling in thy 7*and.

Pope.

I, h, I. One Zaced the Tielm, another held the fence.

Dry den.

s, m, s. /Sonorous ?/*etal making martial sounds.

Milton.

Cjf, c. We conquer'd Prance, butj^elt our captive's charms.

Pope.

Lastly, the alliteration may depend, not upon the initial,
but upon the middle syllables of words :

METRE. 183

{a) The Zustre of the Zong convoZvuZuses.

Tennyson.

(b) The Zeague-Zong roZZer thundering on the reef.

lb.

Often the alliteration may repeat similar, not the same,
letters, for example, d and t, or b and p, as in

This truth came borne with Mer and pa.ll,
I felt it when I sorrowed most,
'Tis Setter to have Zoved and Zost,
Than never to have Zoved at a 11.

lb.

It is not to be supposed that poets, in the act of writing
poetry, observed any distinct laws of alliteration, or were
even aware in all cases that they were employing alliteration
at all. They were guided by their ear, and by the traditions
of English poetry. It will hereafter be shown that allite-
ration was an essential part, or rather the basis, of early
English poetry. What rhyme is now, that was alliteration
then. An ignorance of the traditional importance of allitera-
tion may perhaps account for the harshness of the words of
many modern songs as compared with the smoothness of
the songs of the seventeenth century.

124. Early English Alliterative Poetry consisted of
couplets in which each section contained two or more
accented initial syllables.1 Of these four syllables, the two
in the first section, and, as a rule, the first of the two in the
second section, were alliterated :

I sftope me in s/iroudes || as I a sheve were.

Piers the Ploivman.

1 "More than two are frequently found in the first half-line, hut rarely
in the second." — Skeat.

184 METRE.

It is an exception, and perhaps an accidental one, when
both accented syllables in the second section are alliterated :

Inmer seson, || whan soft was the aos Sonne.

Piers the Plowman.

More often, though still an exception, there are more
than two alliterative syllables in the first section, and one
in the second :

jPaire floures/br to/ecche || that he bi-ybre him seye (saw).

William and Werwolf.

By an exceptional license, unaccented syllables are some-
times alliterated :

And ivith him to wonge (dwell) with too \\ whil God is in hevene.

Piers the Plowman.

125. Influence of Early English Poetry on the
Elizabethan Writers.— The introduction of a fourth allite-
rated letter is a mark of lateness of date in early English
poetry. This shows that the taste for alliteration did not
vanish with the decay of alliterative poetry. It is true that
the introduction of rhyme, supplying a different kind of
poetic regularity, diminished the need of alliteration ; but
alliteration still clung even to rhyming poetry.

Rhyme, and not alliteration, was the basis of the French
metres, and it is natural to suppose that foreign influence
helped much in extending the use of rhyme. As rhyme in
itself is a considerable restraint on the free choice of words,
rhyme and alliteration together became an intolerable restric-
tion ; and alliteration, from being a law, became a custom
frequently, but not invariably, observed. Yet the attempt
to combine the now rhyming system with the old alliterative

METRE. 185

system was made. The following example is taken from a
poem written about a.d. 1360 :

A gvene hors gret and thikke,

A stedefull stiffto str&yne.

In frrawden (embroidered) bry&el quik,

To pe (the) gome (man) he watz (was) ful #ayn (useful).

Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight,

There is little difference between this systematic allitera-
tion and the alliteration of some passages in Dryden. But
some of the Elizabethan writers use the old alliteration, not
as Dryden did, in occasional passages, but continuously.

126. Alliteration in Elizabethan Authors.1— The fol-
lowing is a curious example of the original early English
alliteration in couplets. The date is about 1600 a.d.

Sitting by a river's side,
Where a silent stream did glide,
31use I did of many things
That the mind in quiet brings.

Greene,

The same poet sometimes places the double alliteration in
the second line :

It was/rosty winter season
And /air -Flora's wealth was geason.
When I saw a shepherd fold
Sheey in cote to shun the cold.

Greene.

But the effect of the continued alliteration, combined with
rhyme, was artificial and hampering in the extreme. Take
the following as an example :

. 1 Lyly's " Euphues " abounds in instances of complicated alliteration.

186 METRE.

To trust thet/aynedt/ace, to rue on/orced tears
To credit/inely/orged tales, wherein there oft appeares
And &?'eathes as from the &reast a smoke of kindled smart
Where only lurkes a dene deceit within the /iollow hart.

Tottel's Miscellany, a.d. L>j7.

It therefore came to be considered archaic, and when found
in excess in Spenser's "Faerie Queene," it must be treated
as an archaism.

(a) The wise soothsayer seeing so sad sight.

Faerie Queen.

Repining courage yields
(J?) No/oot to foe; the flashing fire flies

As from a forge. lb.

As an archaism, this excess of alliteration is ridiculed by
Shakspeare :

Whereat Tvith blade, with &Zoody 5Zameful 5Zade,
He &?*avely Z>roach'd Ins froiZing &Zoody frreast.

Midsummer Nighfs Dream.

Shakspeare uses little alliteration in his descriptive
verses of four accents (except in the songs) ; but in the non-
rhyming dramatic lines he uses it on occasion with great
effect, sometimes in an obvious manner, as :

This precious stone set in the .silver sea.

Richard III.

More often the alliterative syllables are separated :

(a) With roclts unscaleable and roaring waters.

(b) He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the Zascivious pleasing of a late.

METRE. 187

127. Milton's Alliteration in the " Paradise Lost" is
somewhat less marked than in the " Comus " and the smaller
poems ; but in all his poetry, written in the verse of five ac-
cents, he tones down the alliterative effect by often alliterat-
ing unaccented syllables. It has been stated that this is an
irregular license in early English poetry.

(a) Or 'gainst the rugged &ark of some frroad elm.

Comus.

(b) With thy ZoEg Zevell'd rule of streaming Zight.

lb.

(d) Though sun and moon
Were in the flat sea sunk.

lb.

Often the alliterative syllables are not initial. Thus it is
impossible not to perceive the force of alliteration in the
following line, though only one of the alliterative letters is
initial :

Yet they in pZeasing sZumber ZuZZed the sense.

lb.

Alliteration is also disguised (1) when the alliterative con-
sonants are not identical, but similar, as b and p, d and t, r
and Z, m and n, c hard and g hard, and the like ; (2) when
initial syllables alliterate with syllables that are not initial ;
(3) when the alliterating syllables are not in the same line.
We do not intend to do more than direct the reader's atten-
tion to the exquisiteness of Milton's versification in this
respect. It is pervaded by a continuous and varying allite-
ration which, without being obtrusive, gives a distinct

188 METRE.

pleasure to the pronunciation of his verses, apart from their
meaning. The following is an instance. The last line sub-
stitutes for alliteration a powerful vowel effect.

b, p ; t, t. But .Beauty, like the fair Hesperian free,

Z, d, g. Laden with bZooming gold had need the guard

g, ch. Of dragon watc/i, with unencftanted eye,

s, f. To save her blossoms and defend her/ruit

a, a, o, o. From the rash hand of bold Incontinence.

In Milton's four-accent verse, alliteration is more obvious
and frequent, but nowhere so marked as in the following
passage, describing the " wanton heed and giddy cunning"
of poetic euphony :

Or sweetest #hakspeare, Fancy's child,
TFarble his native wood-notes wild.
And ever against eating cares
Zap me in soft Zydian airs,
.Married to immortal verse ;
Such as the meeting soul may pierce,
In notes, with many a winding bout
Of Zinked sweetness Zong drawn out,
With wanton heed and giddy cunning
The melting voice through mazes running,
Untfwisftng all the chains that tie
The Mdden soul of harmony.

128. In Vowel Alliteration in early English poetry it
was not necessary that the vowels at the beginning of the
accented syllables should be the same. Any vowels what-
ever satisfied the requirement. Vowel alliteration is not so
obvious or common as the alliteration of consonants. The
following is perhaps an example :

Where awful arches make a noonday night.

Pope.

METRE. 189

The following~certainly~is :

Though oft the ear the open vowels tire.

lb.

But it is more common in Milton :

(a) With sudden adoration and blank awe,
(&) Of ^.mram's son, in Egypt's evil day.
(e) -4ir, and ye elements, the eldest birth.

129. The Influence of Early English Poetry on the
Initial Foot. — In all the iambic and trisyllabic metres of
modern English poetry, a great license is noticeable in the
first or initial foot of a line. In the iambic metre, instead of
an iamb, a trochee is often found, as :

Comfort | my liege ! | Why looks | your grace | so pale ?

Michard II.

Again, in the trisyllabic metre an iamb is often found for
an anapaest:

The winds | play no longjer and sing | in the leaves.

Cowper.

This may be explained by reference to the early English
poetry, as follows :

Lines or half-lines in early English poetry do not always
begin with an accented syllable. Often one or more sylla-
bles precede the accented syllable. These syllables, which
may be called a catch, are not necessary to the scansion,
though they are to the sense.

The catch consists of one syllable, and of two syllables
respectively, in the two sections of the following couplet :

190 METRE.

In a | somer sesun || when softe was the sonne.

Piers the Ploughman.

Now it is evident that this license of adding syllables at
the beginning of the line, or of a section of a line, alters the
character of the initial foot. In early English alliterative
poetry, the number of syllables in a verse was not counted ;
in the foreign rhyming metre the syllables were counted.
When these two totally distinct systems blended together,
the Early English license of disregarding unaccented syllables
was curtailed, though not destroyed, in the middle of the
verse ; but at the beginning of the verse, and after a marked
pause in a verse, the license was retained almost unimpaired,
as will be seen hereafter.

SPECIAL METRES.

DISYLLABIC.

130. One Accent.— Iambic lines, if they may be so called,
of one accent, are found in some lyrical poems of the seven-
teenth century, as —

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon :
As yet the early rising sun
Has not attained his noon.

Stay, stau,
Until the hasting day

Has run
But to the even-song j
And having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along.

Herrick.

METRE. 191

Such short lines are very commonly used by Shakspeare,
especially to express ejaculations and appellations :

Alack,

I love myself. Wherefore ? For any good ?

Richard III.

For, sir,

It is as sure as you are Roderigo.

Othello.

The trochaic line with one accent scarcely exists. Perhaps
the word " never " in Longfellow's well-known refrain,

Never, for ever,

may be considered a specimen of a one-accent rhyming
trochaic line.

131. Two Accents, — Iambic lines of two accents occur
sometimes in odes, e.g., in Wordsworth's " Ode on the Inti-
mations of Immortality," and in Dryden's " Ode on the
Power of Music." They are often found in lyrical poems
of the seventeenth century.

Your date is not so past,
But you may stay yet here awhile,
To blush and gently smile,
And go at last.

Herrick — " Blossoms."

Sceptre and croicn

Must tumble dozen,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Shirley.

The iambic line, with an extra unaccented syllable, is
often used by Burns as a short line :

192 METRE.

There's ither poets much your betters,
Far seen m Greek, deep men of letters,
Hae thought they had insured their debtors

A' future ages ;
Now moths deform in shapeless tetters

Their unknown pages.

Trochaic lines of two accents are rare. The two following
are the only lines of the kind in Dryden's " Alexander's
Feast":

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet the pleasure after pain.

The trochaic metre of two accents, omitting the last un-
accented syllable, is not fitted for serious subjects. It is used
by Pope in a little poem called "An Ode by Tilly-Tit, Poet
Laureate to His Majesty of Lilliput," addressed to " The
Man-Mountain."

From his nose
Clouds he blows :
When he speaks,
Thunder breaks :
When he eats,
Famine threats ;
When he drinks,
Neptune shrinks.

It is remarkable that Pope should have used this lillipu-
tian metre in his " Ode on St. Cecilia's Day/' The effect is
very bad.

Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe.

METRE. 193

132. Three Accents and Six Accents.— -The iambic

line of three accents is very common in ballads and hymns.

It is often used alternately with the iambic line of four

accents.

O Brignall banks are wild and fair

And Greta woods are green ;
And you may gather garlands there
Would grace a summer-queen.

Scott.

In the narrative poetry of Scott it often concludes a stanza
of iambic verses of four accents, much as it is used in

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Coleridge — " Love."

The trochaic verse with three accents is very rare. In
the following example it is often connected with an irregular
trochaic verse containing an extra syllable in the initial foot,
or omitting the final unaccented syllable.

Tennyson.

The extra syllable in the last example renders it possible
to call the line iambic instead of trochaic ; but the trochaic
spirit is so clearly prevalent throughout the passage, that it
seems better to call such lines irregular trochaics, treating
the extra syllable as a " catch." *

1 See Paragraph 129.

194 METRE.

The three -accent iambic is often used by Shakspeare for
rapid retort, sometimes with rhyme :

Rosalind. The hour that fools should ask.
JBiron. Now fair befal your mask.

Love's Labour Lost.

But more often without rhyme :

Anne. I would I knew thy heart.

Gloucester. 'Tis figured in my tongue.

Bichard III.

The three- accent iambic with alternate rhyme, though
occasionally used in modern hymns, is somewhat mono-
tonous. It is not uncommon in the poems of Surrey and
Wyatt.

Though I regarded not
The promise made by me,
Or passed (recked) not to spot
My faith and honestie.

Surrey.

When two iambic three-accent lines have no marked
pause between them, and the first line does not rhyme with
the second, the two become one line with six accents, called
an Alexandrine. The following is not only a specimen, but
intended to be descriptive of the somewhat dragging eflect
of such a line, —

A needless Alexandrine ends the song,

And, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.

Pope.

Dryden freely intersperses it in his longer poems, generally
at the end of a paragraph ; Spenser inserts it at the end of
each stanza in the " Faery Queene." It is unfit for dramatic
purposes, though sometimes used with rhyme, as by Peele,

METRE. 195

the contemporary of Shakspeare, in his. " Arraignment of
Paris." Shakspeare seldom uses it except where the pause
is so marked as to make the line really two lines of three
accents each. He introduces it into the mouth of ranting
Pistol, and uses it for an inscription :

Portia. Now make your choice.

Morocco. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears,

•* Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire : "

The second silver, which this promise carries,

"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves : "

The third dull lead, with warning all as blunt,

" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."

Merchant of Venice.

It is followed by a verse of seven accents in :

Alcwiades. [Reads the epitaph.]

" Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft :

Seek not my name : a plague consume you wicked caitiffs left."

In Sir Thomas North's Plutarch, a book from which
Shakspeare drew largely for the subjects of his plays, the
Alexandrine metre is constantly employed to translate quota-
tions and inscriptions ; and this may have influenced Shaks-
peare in his use of this metre. Many apparent Alexandrines
in Shakspeare are Alexandrines only in appearance.

The three-accent rhyming couplet, used alternately with
the three-accent non-rhyming couplet, becomes a spirited
ballad metre in Lord Macaulay's " Battle of Naseby " :

Their heads all stooping low, their points all of a row,
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dykes,
Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the accurst,
And at a shock have shattered the forest of his pikes.

The Iambic three-accent verse has sometimes an extra
syllable. This line is not often used unmixed. It precedes

196 METKE.

the shorter three- accent iambic, and is used seriously in the
following :

I fly to scenes romantic,

Where never men resort,
For in an age so frantic

Impiety is sport.

Cowper.

When it follows the longer line of four accents, it generally
has a comic effect, as in

Patron of all those luckless brains

That, to the wrong side leaning,
Indite much metre with much pains,

And little or no meaning .

lb.

The same metre is used with the same effect by Tennyson
in his " Will Waterproof " and "Amphion."

The trochaic three-accent sometimes dispenses with the
final unaccented syllable :

Crabbed age and youth
Cannot live together :
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care.

The Passionate Pilgrim.

133. Iambic verse with four accents is commonly
used for ballad-narrative, as in Scott's Poems. In ballads
and hymns it is generally followed by a line, of three accents,
and the poems of Scott contain a few three-accent lines
irregularly interspersed. Unmixed with other lines, the
four- accent iambic is somewhat monotonous.

There is a great difference between the earlier verses in
his metre, written by Surrey and Wyatt, and the later
metre of Scott. In the former the verse is generally split

METRE. 197

Into two halves, as in the following anonymous poem from
Totters Miscellany, 1557 a.d.

The sun when he | hath spread his rays
And showed his face | ten thousand ways,
Ten thousand things | do then begin
To show the life | that they are in.

In the poem from which this extract is taken, out of the
first forty-five verses, only two are found without the
division in the middle. Very different is the metre of Scott:

With early dawn | Lord Marmion rose,

And first the chap\el doors unclose ;

Then after mom\ing rites were done

(A hasty mass | from Friar John),

And knight and squire | had broke their fast

On rich substantial repast,

Lord Marmion's bu\gles blew to horse ;

Then came the stir\rup cup in course

Between the Bar\on and his host :

No point of court\esy was lost.

In fables and the lighter kind of narrative this metre often
has interspersed lines with an extra syllable unaccented, as
in Butler's Hudibras :

Whose honesty they all would swear for,
Tho' not a man of them knew wherefore.

The extra syllable is rare in serious poetry.

134. The trochaic verse of four accents was more
common in the Elizabethan period than the iambic verse of
four accents. The English tendency to throw back the
accent in disyllabic and other words facilitates the use of
this metre.

A great part of the Allegro and Penseroso is written in
this metre :

198 METRE.

Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures
While the landscape round it measures.

Well adapted for lively bustle, this metre does not suit a
sober or quietly graceful subject ; and the necessity of a
double rhyme is a serious practical obstacle to its continuous
use in a long poem. Hence, the final unaccented syllable is
often dropped, and the result is a truncated trochaic metre,
which is more common than the full trochaic. The follow-
ing is an instance :

Russet lawns and fallows gray,
Where the nibbling flocks do stray.

The addition of a monosyllable at the beginning of a tro-
chaic line allows us to scan the truncated trochaic as iambic :

Labouring | clouds do | often | rest
is trochaic ;

The labouring clouds | do 6ft,en rest

is iambic.

But the extra syllable may perhaps be regarded as a remnant
of the licensed addition called in early English a " catch "
(see 129), which does not interfere with the scansion. In
that case the prevalent trochaic effect will be maintained,
and the second as well as the first line, in the following
couplets, will be scanned trochaically :

(a) Mountains on whose barren breast
The | labouring clouds do often rest ;

(b) Where perhaps some beauty lies
The | cynosure of neighbouring eyes,

In | saffron robe with taper clear.

Sometimes the "catch" is added to the first line in a
couplet :

METRE. 199

When the merry bells ring round,
And the jocund rebecks sound,
To many a youth and many a maid
Dancing in the chequer'd shade.

Whether the line be called trochaic with a " catch," or
iambic, matters little, provided that, in reading, the " catch"
be subordinated.

In the initial foot a dactyl is sometimes substituted by
Milton for the trochee :

(a) Till the livelong daylight fail :
Then to the spicy nut-brown ale.

This license is most common after a trochaic line with a
" catch," or, if that name be preferred, after an iambic line :

(b) And I stretch'd out all the chimney's length,
Basks at the fire his hairy strength,

And | crop-full out of doors he flings
Ere the first cock his matin sings,

(d) Or | sweetest Shakspeare, Fancy's child,
Warble his native wood-notes wild.1

Of course, if we prefer to scan both lines iambically,
the latter line in each couplet can be scanned as an iambic
with an initial trochee. But to do this the words will have
to be cut up sometimes rather unnaturally, and unlike the
rest of the poem :

Or sweet|est Shak|speare, Fanlcy's child,
Warble | his najtive wood-|notes wild.

1 It will not escape notice that in three instances the trisyllabic foot con-
tains the or th', which is often dropped in Elizabethan poetry, and the fourth
can be explained by elision, -le being elided before his. See Par. 137.

200 METRE.

In the middle of the trochaic verse of four accents no sub-
stitute for the trochee is allowed, except (and this is very-
rare) a monosyllabic foot :

Shakspeare.

Such monosyllabic feet mostly contain r or some diphthong,
so that they are almost pronounced like two syllables, e. .g,
fire, dear. Our English o in cold, home, is really a diphthong,
o followed by a slight it. But in the following extract mono-
syllabic feet are introduced not containing diphthongs or r :

A | hat of straw, like a swain,
Shelter for the sun and rain ;
Legs were bare, arms unclad
Such attire this palmer had.
His | face fair like Titan's shine ;
Grey and buxom were his eyne.
Whereout dropt pearls of sorrow;
Such sweet tears Love doth borrow :
Ruby lips, cherry cheeks ;
Such rare mixture Venus seeks.

Greene.

The truncated trochaic when combined in alternate rhymes
is often used in hymns, as,

Trials must and will befall ;
But with humble faith to see
Love inscribed upon them all,
This is happiness to me.

The full metre and the truncated metre are also combined
in hymns, and in the lighter kind of ballad narrative, as

In her ear he whispers gaily,
If my heart by si^ns can tell,

METEE. 201

Maiden, I have watch'd thee daily,
And I think thou lov'st me well."

Unmixed with other metre, and with rhymes following

consecutively, the truncated metre is monotonous. Shak-

speare makes Touchstone parody it :

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind ;
Such a nut is Eosalind.

As You Like It,

And he adds, "I'll rhyme you so eight years together,
dinners and suppers and sleeping hours excepted ; this is the
very false gallop of verses."

135. The Iambic with five accents, without rhyme,
is the. common metre of dramatists. The four- accent line is
too short, and breaks the sense too frequently ; and the six-
accent line is so long as to he tedious without rhyme ; or
else, if broken by a pause, it frequently divides into two
verses of three accents each. Hence Shakspeare as a rule
reserves four-accent rhyming verses for the mouths of
witches, fairies, etc. The six-accent verse is generally really
two three-accent verses. (See 132.) The five-accent verse,
as the mean between the two, is the common dramatic
measure.

136- Trisyllabic License. — The dramatic line, repre-
senting as it does the language of life, approaches more
nearly to prose, and enjoys more license than any other
metre. Not merely is the trochee freely substituted for the
iamb after any pause however slight: an extra syllable is
also allowed at the end of a line or sentence, and in some
cases even two extra syllables, as in

I dare avouch it, sir. What, fifty followers I

Lear.

202 METRE.

The license of using one extra syllable is not uncommon
in Milton also. He more rarely uses two extra syllables:

Thy words, with grace divine
Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.

Paradise Lost.

Extra syllables are also allowed in the other feet. This
license is in strict accordance with the traditions of early
English alliterative poetry, where no rule was laid down
about the number of syllables in each line. But this license
of Shakspeare is not unregulated by rule. The rule was
the custom of Elizabethan language in which some unac-
cented syllables in polysyllabic words, and also some mono-
syllables when unaccented, e. g., the, with, in, were less
distinctly pronounced than with us. These monosyllables
were often written in contracted forms, th\ wi\ i, and by
their lightness were peculiarly fitted for trisyllabic feet.

The details of the Elizabethan dramatic metre can only be
learned by special study. For modern drama the same rule
holds good, that any extra syllables may be admitted that
are felt not to interfere with the regular recurrence of the
accent. Non-rhyming five-accent iambic metre is often
called blank verse. As a general rule it may be stated that
the modern blank verse is, for the most part, more strict
than that of Milton, and Milton is more strict than Shak-
speare, in limiting himself to ten syllables in a line. Milton
uses capital, populous, as trisyllabic feet. But we also find
in modern verse, —

Even to | the last | dip of | the vanishing sail.

Tennyson.

Thro' all | his fu|ture ; but | now hdst\dy caught.

lb.

METEE. 203

The sound | of man|y a heav\ily galloping hoof,

Tennyson.

there is an evident intention to produce a subdued anapaestic
effect, imitative of the sound of galloping. Otherwise two
consecutive trisyllabic feet in a disyllabic measure are rare :
they tend to give a trisyllabic effect to the whole line, and
thus to destroy the metre.

137. License of Elision.— A vowel termination before
an initial vowel is often elided in Milton, and sometimes
in modern poetry, especially in " many a" as in the last
example of the last Paragraph :

(a) Anguish | and doubt | and fear | and sorrow | and pain.

(b) In glo{ry and power | to judge j both quick | and dead.

So we ought to scan

(d) City or | suburban, stu|dious walks | and shades.
So even Pope, —

(a) End all dispute, and fix the year precise
When British bards begin f immortalize.

(b) Or damn all Shakspeare, like th' affected fool
At court who hates whatever he read at school.

138. License of Trochee.— It has been stated above
(129) that in the initial foot, and after a pause, in iambic
metre, a trochee instead of an iamb is allowed. A very slight
pause in the dramatic and free iambic metres justifies a
trochee ; even a long syllable, with the slight pause necessary
for its distinct pronunciation, is sufficient. But some slight

204 METRE.

pause is necessary, and hence it may be laid down as a rule
that in iambic metre one trochee cannot follow another. It is
usual to quote as an exception, —

Universal reproach far worse to bear.

Milton.

Such a line would be a monstrosity, and it is far more likely
that Milton pronounced the word universal, perhaps influenced
by the fact that the i is long in Latin. Words derived from
Latin are accented somewhat capriciously ; compare aspect
and respect. Similarly, Tennyson accents compensating as
follows :

To barter, nor compensating the want,

Enoch Arden.

which seems exactly parallel to Milton's universal.
The line,—

Down the | low turrjet stairs, pdl\pitdting,

Tennyson.

may perhaps be differently explained by treating the word
stairs as a disyllable. The reason why a pause is neces-
sary before a trochee seems to be this, that between two
accented syllables the voice needs time to recover itself.
Hence it is allowable to write,

Be in | their flowjing cups \ freshly | remembered,

because the emphatic word cups, long in quantity as well us
emphatic, necessitates a kind of pause after it which makes
a break between the two accents. But we could not so well
write

Be in their happing freshly remembered,

Here the unemphatic -ness not being (98) between two un-
accented syllables, should not receive the Metrical Accent.

METRE. 205

Hence we may lay down as a rule that a trochee in the
middle of a verse must not follow an unemphatic accent. The
following seem to be remarkable exceptions :

Burn'd after them to the bottomless pit.

Milton.

Light from above from the fountain of light.

lb.

139. The Five-accent Iambic with rhyme is more
strict than the same line when non-rhyming. In the sonnets
and verses of Shakspeare, trisyllabic feet are not nearly so
common as in his dramas. In part this may arise from the
distinction of the subject. Dramatic verse will generally be
more conversational, and given to slur syllables, than de-
scriptive verse. But the rhyme in itself, giving a certain
precision to the metre, imposes a restraint on the license
of slurring ; the rhyming passages of Shakspeare's dramas
are more regular than the non-rhyming passages.

The rhyming couplet of Pope is the strictest specimen of
this metre. Anything like irregularity in the lines would
blunt the point of the epigram which almost each couplet
contains. Such words as dev'l (compare the Shakspearian
use and the Scotch de'il), punctu(a)l, mod' rate, tim'rous,
(244) casuists, Mali met, diamond, vilet, amWous, simpering,
have a syllable slurred ; but in all these words, with the ex-
ception of the first three, the slurred syllable is scarcely pro-
nounced even in modern English ; probably the syllable was
still less audible in Pope's time.

140. The Rhyming Iambic of Narrative Poetry

of which Chaucer, and not Pope's "Iliad," furnishes the

206 METRE.

true type, differs materially from the rhyming couplet. The
couplet is complete in itself, and requires a decided pause at
its conclusion, marked by a decided rhyme. The narrative
rhyme, on the other hand, is purposely unemphatic, in order
not to give the effect of a pause. Yery often a couplet is
broken by the introduction of a new paragraph at the begin-
ning of the second line. The following is an instance of
this :

Then Jason rose, and did on him a fair

Blue woollen tunic, such as folk do wear

On the Magnesian cliffs, and at his thigh

An iron-hilted sword hung carefully ;

And on his head he had a russet hood ;

And in his hand two spears of cornel -wood

Well steeled and bound with brazen bands he shook.

Then from the Centaur's hands at last he took

The tokens of his birth, the ring and horn.

Morris, Jason.

Keats' " Endymion " is in the same metre, The rhyme-
words are generally monosyllables, rarely trisyllables, and still
more rarely disyllables. The accent on the final syllable of
a disyllable, as remain, is too strong for the rhyme in this
metre. The double rhyme is sparingly used.

141. The Trochaic Five-accent Verse is very rare :

The last verse is truncated. Of the truncated trochaic, the
following is a specimen :

METKE. 207

Lavish | honour | shower'd | all her | stars,

(And) affluent, | Fortune | emptied | all her | horn.

Verses have been written in the trochaic metre containing
six, seven, and eight accents ; but they can mostly be divided
into shorter verses of three or four accents. The eight-
accent truncated verse is best entitled to be regarded as a
distinct metre :

Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis early morn :
Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle horn.

Locksley Hall.

142. The Spenserian Stanza, and Sonnet. — Iambic
rhyming five- accent lines do not always rhyme in couplets.
Different effects can be produced by placing the rhymes in
different order, and repeating them more or less frequently,
In the Spenserian stanza which consists of nine lines, the
last an Alexandrine, the second line rhymes with the fourth,
fifth, and seventh, the sixth with the eighth and ninth, and
the first with the third.

Shakspeare's Sonnet consists of fourteen lines, each of five
accents. The first twelve rhyme alternately; the last two
rhyme together.

The Sonnet proper (on the pattern of Petrarch) consists of
fourteen lines, each of ^ve accents, the whole being divided
into two unequal parts, (a) the first of eight lines, (b) the second
of six. (a). In the first part there are two four-line stanzas.
In each stanza the two middle lines rhyme together, and the
two outside lines rhyme together, as in the stanza of " In
Memoriam :" and the second stanza repeats the same rhymes
as the first, (b). The second part consists of two three-line
stanzas. The first, second, and third lines in the first stanza
rhyme severally with the first, second, and third lines in the
second stanza.

208 METRE.

IWhen I consider how my light is spent, a.

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, b.

And that one talent which is death to hide b.

Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent a.

I To serve therewith my Maker, and present a.

My true account, lest He returning chide ; b.

6 Doth God exact day-labour, light denied! ' b.

I fondly ask ; but Patience, to prevent a.

/That murmur soon replies : ' God doth not need c.

1 } Either man's work or His own gifts ; who best d.
(Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best : His state e. «

■° | Is kingly ; thousands at His bidding speed, c.

2 J And post o'er land and ocean without rest : d.
(They also serve who only stand and wait.' e.

Milton.

In the second part of the sonnet great variety prevails. The

six lines all rhyme in some way together ; but sometimes there

are only two rhymes, instead of three, as in the following

example :

0 nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still ;
Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly (116) hours lead on propitious May :
Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill
Portend success in love. 0, if Jove's will
Have link'd that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate c.

Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh : d.

As thou from year to year hast sung too late c.

For my relief, yet hadst no reason why : d.

Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate, c.

Both them I serve, and of their train am i". d.

lb.

Here the rhymes do not keep the regular order, and even
where there are three rhymes, the order is often varied.
Milton, however, only once allows a rhyming couplet to end
the sonnet ; but Wordsworth often ends with a rhyming
colet, as upin the following example :

METRE. 209

Scorn not the Sonnet : Critic, you have frowned,

Mindless of its just honours ; with this key

Shakspeare unlocked his heart ; the melody

Of this small lute gave ease to Petrarch's wound ;

A thousand times this pipe did Tasso sound ;

With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief ;

The Sonnet glittered a gay myrtle leaf

Amid the cypress with which Dante crowned

His visionary brow ; a glowworm lamp, c.

It cheered mild Spenser, called from Faery- land d.

To struggle through dark ways ; and when a damp c.

Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand d.

The thing became a trumpet, whence he blew e.

Soul-animating strains, — alas, too few. e.

Two of the objects of a sonnet are (1) to preserve the
unity of the poem, and not to suffer it to be broken up into
a number of couplets ; (2) to diffuse the effect throughout the
whole, and (as Wordsworth distinctly says) to avoid anything
like an epigram at the end. Hence (1) the poem is so ar-
ranged that it cannot possibly divide itself into halves, and
as a further precaution, the beginning of the second section
(underlined above) is often not separated by the slightest
pause from the first section.1 Hence also (2) Milton rejected
as too epigrammatic the couplet with which Shakspeare
always concluded his sonnets.

Though there is no pause in either of the two sonnets of
Milton quoted above, yet there is a change in the meaning.
In the first sonnet, there is a change from the " murmur"
to the " reply"; in the second, from statement to appeal,
" Now timely sing." The change of metre suggests a change
in thought, and therefore seems to make a pause appropriate.
On the other hand, a pause, combined with a change of

1 There is no pause at all in half of Milton's sonnets ; and when there is a
pause, it is sometimes slight.

210 METRE.

thought, endanger the unity of the poem by cutting it into
two distinct parts. Thus it would appear that the sonnet
attempts to combine two effects somewhat incongruous in
their nature. Hence its peculiar difficulty.

TRISYLLABIC METRE.

143. Early Use of Trisyllabic Metre. — Although in
early English alliterative poetry the number of syllables was
not regulated by rule, yet for the most part the general effect
is trisyllabic. When there is no catch,1 the effect is tri-
syllabic, with accent on the first syllable, i.e., dactylic.

Lucifer with legionnes || lerned it in hevene.

Piers the Plowman.

This dactylic metre, when preceded by a catch of two sylla-
bles, gives the effect of an anapaestic metre. When the
catch is of one syllable, the effect is of mixed iambs and
anapaests, or amphibrachs ; 2 but in any case the metre has a
trisyllabic effect.

Consequently, this trisyllabic, or, as it has been some-
times called, tumbling metre, is very common in the earlier
ballads. The following extract from Skelton of a description
of Envy, written in the beginning of the sixteenth century,
illustrates the irregularity of this metre :

Whan other are glad,
Than is hee sad,
Frantiche and mad,
His tonnge never styll
For to save yll.
Writhing and wringing,
Biting and stinging.

1 See paragraph 129.

2 For explanation of these terms, see 97.

METRE. 211

Here the last two lines are dactylic, the rest of a mixed
trisyllabic, disyllabic, and monosyllabic metre.

144. The Effect of the Trisyllabic Metre when
following the trochaic metre is to give a telling and merry
effect. Thus :

There I | couch, when | owls do | cry ;

On the | bat's back | I do | fly,

After | slimmer, | merri | If.

Merrily, | merrily, | shall I live | now

Under the | blossom that | hangs on the | bough.

The Tempest.
Conversely, the trisyllabic gives a merry beginning, fol-
lowed by a serious trochaic end, in

Scott.1

In the trisyllabic metre, it is not necessary that every foot

should be trisyllabic. The first foot is, as often as not,

disyllabic ; and disyllabic feet occur in the middle of the

verse, but not at the end. The third foot is often disyllabic :

Behold, | how they toss ] their torch\es on high,

Dryden.

And now, | in the grass ] behold | they are laid.

Coivper.

In the ballad metre, trisyllabic feet are often used, without

interfering with the general disyllabic effect ; and the result

is a certain free, merry, and almost rollicking effect, which

suits the ballad style very well. It is only in this free

disyllabic metre that a trisyllabic foot is frequent at the end

of a verse. In most strict disyllabic metre, a trisyllabic foot

1 This and the two preceding example are quoted from Guest's " History
of English Rhythms. ;;

212 METRE.

at the end of the verse would injure the effect, though allowable
in the middle. But see exception, p. 203. In the following
example from a ballad whose general effect is disyllabic, the
trisyllabic foot occurs even at the end of the verse :

We | have a letjter, sayd A (dam Bell,

To the justice we must | it bring ;
Let | us in | our mess' age to do,

That we | were againe | to the

145. The Scansion of the Trisyllabic Metre must
often be a matter of taste. In some poems, as in Hood's
" Bridge of Sighs/' the effect is unquestionably dactylic, —

Sisterly, brotherly,
Fatherly, motherly.

And so in a great part of the following :

Over the mountains,
Over the waves,
Under the fountains,
And under the graves.
Under floods that are deeper,

Which Neptune obey,
Over rocks which are steeper,

Love will find out the way.
Anon.

But here the fourth line may begin with an amphibrach, and
the last four are decidedly anapaestic. Again, the line

Dirck gallop'd, I gallop'd, we gallop'd all three.

Browning*
seems amphibrachic ; but

Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place,

lb.

1 Even the strictest trisyllabic metre allows an accented syllable in a
disyllabic, and sometimes a weak accent in a quadrisyllable, to be without
the Metrical Accent, after a Metrical Accent:

Have a still shorter date and die sooner than we*. — Cotcper.

Are pleased to be kind, but I hate ostentation.— Goldsmith.

METRE. 213

is equally clearly anapaestic. So in

Nse damn', nse gabbin but sighing, and sabbing,
and

Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaming,

Lament for Flodden.

the former seems amphibrachic, and the latter dactylic.

The modern tendency, however, seems to be to write in
anapaestic rather than in amphibrachic metre, and most
modern trisyllabic poems are better scanned anapaestically.
The necessity of the rhyme favours the anapaest. For,
since the rhyme must be on the accented syllable, the
amphibrachic termination requires a double, the dactylic
termination a treble rhyme. The amphibrach and the dactyl
seem suitable to express sorrow and tender pathos.

The amphibrach is used in the suppressed melancholy of —

Most friendship | is feigning,
Most loving | mere folly ;
Then heigh-ho, | the holly,
This life is | most jolly.

The following is, strictly speaking, anapaestic, but the
effect is amphibrachic :

(He) is gone on | the mountain,
(He) is lost to | the forest,
(Like) a siimmer-|dried fountain
(When) our need was | the sorest.

Scott.

The dactyl is used in Hood's well-known poem, " The
Bridge of Sighs":

Take her up tenderly,
Lift her with care,
Fashioned so slenderly,
Young and so fair.

214 METRE.

Here the dactyl is interspersed with monosyllabic feet.
Unmixed, it would soon become monotonous.

The trisyllabic metre is mostly now used for lighter poetry.
Tennyson has however employed it for serious poetry in
Maud and other poems. The following is an instance :

Under the cross of gold
That shines over city and river,
There he shall rest for ever
Among- the wise and the bold.
Let the bell be toll'd.

On the Duke of Wellington.

In Dry den's " Ode on Alexander's Feast," the anapaBstic
measure is effectively used to represent wild uproar, and is
succeeded by the trochaic and iambic (with a trochaic effect)
representing rapid action :

The princes applaud -with a furious joy :

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy ;

Thais | led the | way

To | light him to his prey,

And | like another Helen fired another Troy.

146. The Anapaestic verse of two accents might
often be written as a verse of four accents, as,

'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone,
All her lovely companions are faded and gone.

But when there is a sectional rhyme, as in the passage
quoted from Scott, in Paragraph 145, the division is clear.

147. The Anapaestic verse of three accents is a
favourite metre of Cowper's, sometimes alternately with the
anapaest of four accents :

The rose had been washed, just washed by a shower,
Which Mary to Anna conveyed.

The Rose.

METRE. 215

Sometimes unmixed, as in

I am monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute ;
From the centre all round to the sea,
I am lord of the fowl and the brute.

Alexander Selkirk.

148. The Anapaestic verse of four accents is the most
common anapaestic metre. Since the first foot in English
metre is peculiarly variable, and the anapaestic verse of four
accents often divides itself naturally into two verses of two
accents, it follows that the third foot has something of the
license of the first.

The _po/?|lars are felPd, [| farewell | to the shade,
And noiv | in the grass || behold | they are laid.

The Poplars.

The' rose | had been wash'd, \\just icash'd | in a shower.

The Rose.

This license, however, is not so common in Cowper's
lighter pieces. In Browning's " Good News from Ghent,"
the first foot is sometimes disyllabic, but every other foot
is trisyllabic throughout the poem.

149. Difficulty of distinguishing between Disylla-
bic and. Trisyllabic Metre. — If the question were asked,
of what metre is the following passage,

Speak, speak thou fearful guest,
Who, in rude armour drest,

Longfellow.

it would be impossible to reply with certainty, and we

should probably incline to say " disyllabic," but the next

line,

Comest to daunt me,

216 METRE.

makes it almost certain that the metre is intended to be
trisyllabic.

This will show how easily the early English alliterative
trisyllabic verse could pass into disyllabic verse. Take as
examples,

(a) To | &ind and to unMnd, || as the booke telleth.

Piers the Plowman.

(b) How he it | Zeft with Zove. || as our Zord hight.

lb.

As soon as a system of counting syllables was introduced,
such verses might be scanned disyllabically :

(«) To bind and to unbind, as the book telleth,
(b) How he it left with love as our Lord hight.

150. Classical Metres. — Attempts have been made (be-
ginning asjiearly as the sixteenth century) with more or less
of success, to introduce the hexameter, and other metres
common in Greek and Latin, into English poetry. But
these metres cannot be said as yet to be naturalised in
English, and may best be studied in connection with the
literature, whence they originated. In many of these at-
tempts it is difficult to recognize any vestige of the metre
which is aimed at. The following,

Worn out | with iing|uish, toil, | and cold, | and hunger,

would pass very well for a five- accent iambic line, whereas
it is intended for something quite different.

In Mr. Kingsley's "Andromeda," however, the hexameter
is written both with correctness and spirit, and Mr. dough's
" Bothie of Tober-na-voilich " is also correct in the main,
and written with real ease and freedom.

FOURTH PART.

CHAPTER I.

HINTS OX SELECTION AND ARKANGEMENT.

151, Difference between Scientific and Non-Scien-
tific Composition. — Composition may be (1) scientific, or
(2) non-scientific (literary). Scientific -composition aims ex-
clusively at clearness, preciseness, and completeness.

Scientific composition is perfectly uniform in arrangement.
Scientific description enumerates the characteristics of a
phenomenon according to a fixed classification ; scientific
reasoning proceeds according to the order of logic ; scientific
narration according to chronological order.

In non-scientific composition the arrangement is much less
uniform, and affords room for judgment and skill. This
chapter will state some of the principles which should
govern it.

First, non-scientific composition is .seldom exhaustively
complete. It omits much that might be stated. We there-
fore require a principle to determine what to admit and what
to suppress — that is, a principle of Selection.

Secondly, non-scientific composition does not aim merely
at conveying truth. It is therefore not satisfied with clear-
ness and preciseness. It aims sometimes at attracting the
attention, sometimes at exciting the imagination, sometimes

218 SELECTION AND ARRANGEMENT.

at stimulating the feelings. These objects introduce new
principles of Arrangement.

152. Non-Scientific Composition may be subdivided
into several different species. The humblest form of it is —

(1). Conversation. — This, having no object but passing
amusement, is often omitted in classifications of styles of
composition. Nevertheless, conversation may be considered
as an art governed by definite principles, and there have
been persons who have attained special excellence in it.

(2). Oratory. — By this is here meant all forms of pleading
intended to determine special persons or bodies of people to
special resolutions, e.g., parliamentary or forensic speeches.
Though for the most part it refers to speeches, and does not
refer to books, yet there are some written treatises which
are comprised under it, e.g., pamphlets or books written to
advocate particular measures ; on the other hand, it excludes
some speeches, e.g., sermons, which are intended to influence
men's general conduct, not their particular acts, and pane-
gyrical or commemorative speeches, which are merely in-
tended to give expression to feelings.

(3). Didactic (Non-Scientific) Composition. — This
name, for want of a better, may be given to the third class.
It includes all compositions which have a practical object,
but not like class (2) a limited and definite one, and, on
the other hand, have not the precision of science. Some
of these compositions may approach to the character of
speeches, e.g., "Burke's Reflections on the French Revolu-
tion; " they may have the form of speeches, e.g., Milton's
" Areopagitica ; " they may be delivered as speeches, e.g., the
sermons of Taylor or Tillotson. Others may approach the

SELECTION AND ARRANGEMENT. 219

character of scientific treatises, e.g., some of the works of
Coleridge, or Mill's " Essay on Liberty." Others, again, may
be narrative in form, provided the narration be true and
seriously meant. Thus history and biography are to be re-
garded as forms of didactic composition. The same may be
said even of fictitious narrative, when it is used solely for the
purpose of illustrating truth. The common characteristic of
all compositions of this class is that they have an object
which is not purely speculative, and yet is not limited to a
special and immediate occasion.

(4). Imaginative Literature, including Poetry. — By
poetry is commonly understood metrical composition. But
metrical compositions evidently belong for the most part to
the larger class of compositions, the object of which is to
gratify the imagination and creative power. Poems, then,
and novels must here be classed together. This style, being
largely imitative, includes imitation of conversation and
oratory (styles 1 and 2). In novels there is generally much
conversation, and often speeches are introduced. Dramatic
poetry assumes the form of conversation throughout. Some
of the most brilliant specimens of oratory in English may be
quoted from the poets, e.g., the speech of Antony in " Julius
Caesar," the speech of Belial in " Paradise Lost," B. 2.

In old times, when some of these styles had not been
clearly distinguished, historians were in the habit of intro-
ducing speeches of their own composition, which they put in
the mouths of statesmen, whose policy they were describing.
Livy and Thucydides are examples. Such speeches, being
imitative, belong to imaginative literature, while history
itself belongs to didactic composition. The mixture of the
two styles is not now tolerated.

220 SELECTION.

SELECTION.

What ought to be suppressed in each of these four
styles. — It is most important to know this. It was a maxim
of Schiller that the master of style is shown rather by what
he omits than by what he says.

153. Conversation. — Of conversation as a means of
transacting business or pursuing philosophical investigation,
we do not treat here. It is only as a relaxation that con-
versation can be considered as a literary style.

It excludes whatever is abstruse. Though it admits argu-
ment and dispute up to a certain point, as soon as the
argument begins to turn upon nice distinctions, or become
sustained and elaborate, in other words to demand a painful
intellectual effort, conversation, properly speaking, is at an end.
In like manner, when the dispute turns upon a matter of fact
which can only be determined by evidence, it is generally
unfit for conversation, since the evidence can rarely be pro-
duced on the spot.

It excludes deep passion, because it is unnatural to discover
the deepest emotions before many people. As a general rule
it excludes all tojrics that cannot be handled briefly and in
short speeches. This is because long speeches are seldom felt
as a relaxation either to speaker or hearers, and in excep-
tional cases where it is otherwise, as in the case of Coleridge,
since two such men seldom meet, conversation passes into
lecture, i.e., into didactic composition.

Good talkers are those who perceive readily whether a
topic broached has or has not these characteristics, and
easily think of such topics. Bad conversers broach the first
topic that occurs to them, and find too late that it has in-
volved them in abstruse dialectics, or differences that cannot

SELECTION. 221

be settled, or speech-making, or embarrassing personal reve-
lations, etc. Admirable examples of the art of conversation
may be found in Mr. Helps' books, "Friends in Council,"
"Realmah," etc. On the other hand, Landor's Imaginary
Conversations, always admirable for composition, often
trespass into the didactic style.

154. Oratory. — This has been confined by our definition
to speeches intended to influence particular decisions. Such
speeches exclude, in a word, whatever is not likely to influ-
ence the decision. Of this sort are —

(a). Considerations that are subtle or far-fetched. — Though
an audience may applaud these if they are skilfully pre-
sented, they will be practically guided by plainer and coarser
arguments.

(b). Language and imagery that are subtle or pedantic. — In
Taylor's " Edwin the Fair," the Pedant in addressing an
audience of monks, begins figuratively —

On Mount Olympus with the Muses nine
I ever dwelt.

Upon which the cry is,

He doth confess it, lo !
He doth confess it ! Faggots and a stake !
He is a heathen ; shall a heathen speak ?

(c). Considerations alien to the ivays of thinking of the
assembly addressed. — Thus it has been said in the House of
Commons of a scheme laid before it by a philosopher, " It
is not of our atmosphere." For the same reason it has been
remarked that lawyers seldom succeed in the House of
Commons ; and Erskine, the greatest of advocates, excited
nothing but contempt in Pitt, who ruled the House of
Commons. Hence, also, the kind of oratory which suits a

222 SELECTION.

jury, i.e., an unskilled audience, differs from that which is
likely to convince a judge, i.e., & skilled auditor.

(d). Considerations of a higher moral tone than is likely
to be appreciated by the assembly. — A speaker may feel it
his duty to urge such considerations, but they are not ora-
torical. An interesting example of oratory ineffective for
this reason is the speech in justification of the murder of
Caesar attributed by Shakspeare to Brutus. It appeals to
abstract principles of morality quite beyond the compre-
hension of the crowd, and therefore excites nothing but a
cold respect for the speaker. Then follows Antony, with an
appeal to feelings, some good, some bad, but actually present
in the minds of the audience, and excites them to frenzy.

(d). Imagery, phraseology, and rhythm, too rich and
exquisite to be readily appreciated. — Specimens have been
given above of the highest eloquence of English prose.
Scarcely one of them belongs to oratory as here defined ;
that is, scarcely one of them would be tolerated in the
House of Commons, or in a law-court. Students must not
be misled by the speeches of Burke so as to suppose that
the richness and ingenuity of his style is properly oratorical.
Burke was, in fact, little listened to in the House of
Commons. The true oratorical style is much less elaborate
and ingenious. The following is a specimen of the manner
of Fox, the most powerful of English orators :

" We must keep Bonaparte for some time longer at war, as a
state of probation ! Gracious God, sir, is war a state of proba-
tion 1 Is peace a rash system ? Is it dangerous for nations to
live in amity with each other? Is your vigilance, your policy,
your common powers of observation, to be extinguished by
putting an end to the horrors of war ? Cannot this state of pro-
bation be as well undergone without adding to the catalogue of

SELECTION. 223

human sufferings ? But we must^xmse / What ! must the bowels
of Great Britain be torn out, her best blood spilt, her treasure
wasted, that you may make an experiment ? Put yourselver —
oh that you would put yourselves in the field of battle and learn
to judge of the sort of horrors that you excite. In former wars
a man might at least have some feeling, some interest, that
served to balance in his mind the impressions which a scene of
carnage and of death must inflict. If a man had been present at
the battle of Blenheim, for instance, and had inquired the
motive of the battle, there was not a soldier engaged who could
not have satisfied his curiosity, and even perhaps allayed his
feelings — they were fighting to repress the uncontrolled ambition
of the Grand Monarque. But if a man were present now at a
field of slaughter, and were to inquire for what they were fight-
ing, ' Fighting ! ' would be the answer, ' they are not fighting,
they are pausing.' c Why is tha,t man expiring? why is that
other writhing in agony 1 what means this implacable fury 1 '
The answer must be, ' You are quite wrong, sir ; you deceive
yourself. They are not fighting. Do not disturb them ; they
are merely pausing. This man is not expiring with agony — that
man is not dead — he is only pausing ! They are not angry with
one another ; they have now no cause of quarrel, but their country
thinks there should be a pause. All that you see, sir, is nothing
like fighting — there is no harm, nor cruelty, nor bloodshed in it
whatever ; it is nothing more than a political pause I It is merely
to try an experiment, to see whether Bonaparte will not behave
himself better than heretofore ; and in the meantime we have
agreed to a pause in pure friendship ! ' And is this the way, sir,
that you are to show yourselves the advocates of order? You
take up a system calculated to uncivilize the world, to destroy
order, to trample on religion, to stifle in the heart not merely
the generosity of noble sentiment, but the affections of social
nature, and in the prosecution of this system you spread terror
and desolation all round you."

What is to be chiefly remarked in this passage is — (1), the

224 SELECTION,

simplicity and homeliness of the thought it expresses ; (2),
the carelessness of the language and the complete absence of
rhythm, the orator evidently beginning his sentences without
knowing how he would end them. To these two character-
istics it owes very much of its persuasiveness. What you
are asked to believe is not anything paradoxical, and the
language used is so direct and natural that you suspect no
artifice. Oratory, however, need not always be as common
as this in thought and style. When the speaker has
mastered the attention of his audience, he may gradually
raise them above their ordinary selves, persuade them to
take higher views than are natural to them, and prepare their
ears for richly metaphorical and rhythmical language. The
following passage from Burke reaches, perhaps, the limit of
oratory proper :

"Do you imagine that it is the Land Tax Act which raises
your revenue, that it is the annual vote in the Committee of
Supply which gives you your army, or that it is the Mutiny
Bill which inspires it with bravery and discipline ? No, surely
no ! It is the love of the people, it is their attachment to their
Government, from the sense of the deep stake they have in
such a glorious constitution, which gives you your army and
your navy, and infuses into both that liberal obedience without
which your army would be a base rabble, and y« >ur navy nothing
but rotten timber. All this, I know well enough, will sound
wild and chimerical to the profane herd of those vulgar and
mechanical politicians who have no place amongst us — a sort of
people who think that nothing exists but what is gross and
material, and who therefore, far from being qualified to be
directors of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn
a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and
rightly taught, these ruling and master principles, which in the
opinion of such men as I have mentioned have no substantial

SELECTION". 225

existence, are, in truth, everything and all in all. Magnanimity
in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom ; and a great empire
and little minds go ill together. If we are conscious of our
situation, and glow with zeal to fill our places as becomes our
station and ourselves, we ought to auspicate all our public pro-
ceedings in America with the old warning of the Church —
Sursum corda ! "We ought to elevate our minds to the great-
ness of that trust to which the order of Providence has called
us. By adverting to the dignity of this high calling, our
ancestors have turned a savage wilderness into a glorious
empire ; and have made the most extensive and the only
honourable conquests, not by destroying, but by promoting
the wealth, the number, the happiness of the human race.
Let us get an American revenue as we have got an American
empire. English privileges have made it all that it is ; English
privileges alone will make it all it can be. "

155. Didactic Composition. — As oratory occupies itself
with the matters that are occupying the minds of the audi-
ence at the time, it admits a multitude of details which are
sure to lose their interest very soon after the speech has been
delivered. For this reason very few successful speeches are
interesting to read. Of the matters discussed a very small
proportion commonly have any intrinsic interest. Here is
the great difference between oratory and didactic composi-
tion. The latter is occupied, not with special measures on
which a vote is about to be taken, but with principles of
action, large courses of policy. Moreover, it is either not
delivered to an audience at all, but simply published, or it is
delivered to an audience whose minds are quite at leisure,
and not preoccupied with the vote they have to give. All
therefore that we have marked as inadmissible in oratory,
subtleties of argument and style, reflections, and language
elevated above the level of common life, are at home here.

226 SELECTION.

On the other hand, much that is admissible in oratory be-
comes inadmissible in didactic composition.

(1). Details of merely ephemeral interest. — It is particularly
in biography and history that it becomes important and diffi-
cult to decide what is ephemeral and what is not. Macaulay
remarks of the historian of British India, Orme, that " in one
volume he allots on an average a closely printed quarto page
to the events of every forty-eight hours." It may be ques-
tioned whether in the later volumes of Macaulay's own history
too much space is not given to parliamentary disputes which
have lost their interest in a century and a half. Still more
often is the same mistake made in biographies, where letters
are preserved perhaps a century after the writer's death,
which at the time they were written could only interest a
personal friend ; nay, often were only written at all to dis
charge a debt of courtesy.

(2). Reflections that are within the reach of every one. — In
oratory, as has been said, these are almost the only reflec-
tions that are allowed. That war is a horrible thing, that
we ought to be prepared against invasion, that Government
ought not to be extravagant, that liberty is an inestimable
treasure, that it is politic to be just, — these are topics which
are always admissible in oratory, and not at all the less
admissible because they have been urged a thousand times
before. On the other hand, original reflections have no
legitimate place in oratay, because we are guided in action,
not by new and imperfectly known principles, but by prin-
ciples that we have tested and made our own. But didactic
composition, which aims not at determining special actions
but at imparting new views, establishing and inculcating im-
proved principles, admits only what is more or less novel,
and suppresses, or passes as lightly as possible over, whatever

SELECTION. 227

is trite. It is partly because in what we read we expect
originality, while a good speech avoids originality, that good
speeches are generally disappointing when read.

156. Imaginative Literature. — This differs principally
from oratory and didactic composition in admitting fiction.
Whatever is stated in oratory and didactic composition, is
stated as true, or, if fiction is introduced, it is for the sake of
the truth contained in it. But imaginative literature admits
fiction as such, and for the sake of the pleasure it gives to
the imagination. Not only does it invent characters and
incidents, but it will assert speculative propositions with the
greatest solemnity, which, nevertheless, are not meant to be
taken as true, but simply as what the imagination likes to
believe. For example :

It is not vain or fabulous
(Though so esteemed by shallow ignorance)
What the sage poets taught by the heavenly Muse,
Storied of old in high immortal verse,
Of dire chimeras and enchanted isles,
And rifted rocks, whose entrance leads to hell ;
For such there be, but unbelief is blind.

So the poetic merit of the following passage does not depend
upon the truth of the doctrine conveyed in it :

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ;
The soul that rises with us, our life's star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar.

This is an imaginative extension of philosophy, just as the
supernatural, in which poets indulge so much, is an imagina-
tive extension of experience.

228 SELECTION.

157. Limit of Fiction. — But poetry recognizes a limit
to this license of creation. There must be some strong
inducement to go beyond reality, otherwise such imaginative
creation is recognized as childish. For example, in the
Middle Ages, when the earth had been only partially ex-
plored, and nature was little known, and therefore curiosity
had free scope, tales of supernatural adventures in unknown
lands were subjects for the greatest writers ; but now that
curiosity of this sort has been appeased by real knowledge,
they only interest children. The subject of the future life
has always attracted poets, because on this subject there has
been, at the same time, a strong general belief, and a strong
sense of ignorance in details.

But poetic creation, where there exists no curiosity, and no
groundwork of belief, is recognized as frivolous. In the case
of the "Pilgrim's Progress," these requisites were present;
hence the success of the book. Southey's " Thalaba " and
" Curse of Kehama" wanted both. As a mere sport of fancy,
the supernatural may still be admissible, if sparingly r
as in the " Rape of the Lock."1

158. Imaginative Literature dealing with History.
— As fictitious matter is admissible in this style, so historical
matter is often inadmissible. Epic poems and historical
novels frequently err in admitting incidents because they are
true, although they do not gratify the imagination. In the
last book of " Paradise Lost" the poem degenerates into a

1 Sometimes philosophy uses the supernatural in order to illustrate the
interdependence of things In nature. To show how much in life d< i
upon the size of human being**, we may imagine Lilliputians and Brob-
dignags. To show what follows from the relation of human beings to parents,
we may imagine a man made artificially, a Frankenstein. In these eases the
supernatural is rigidly limited to a single point; the author hinds himself as
it were to deduce only natural consequences from his supernatural postulate.

SELECTION. 229

historical summary. Lucan and Camoens may be mentioned
as poets who have fallen into this error. Shakspeare in his
historical plays, and Scott in his historical romances, may be
mentioned as having treated history successfully from the
imaginative point of view. Scott's plan is to put ficti-
tious characters into the foreground, and to introduce his-
torical incidents and characters only occasionally, and, as it
were, by way of ornament. Shakspeare's success is mainly
owing to the fact that English history in his age was still
rather a tradition than a history, and hence allowed freedom
of treatment. The great epic poems, founded upon facts be-
lieved to be historical, have only been successful eithtr when
the facts were really legendary, and not historical, as in the
cases of the siege of Troy, the wanderings of iEneas, the
lives of Arthur and Charlemagne, or else when history has
been freely altered, as in Tasso's " Jerusalem Delivered."

159. Unity of Feeling. — Great imaginative works have
generally a prevailing tone pervading incident and character,
which may be called unity of feeling. Hence everything
is inadmissible which violates this. The " Rape of the
Lock," for example, — one of the most finished works of
imaginative art we have, — excludes intentionally everything
which is not insignificant and frivolous. The introduction
of any serious incident, any grave reflection, would have
spoiled the work. When the spirits boast of influencing the
female imagination, they say —

Nay, oft in dreams invention we bestow
To change a flounce or add a furbelow.

The mention of anything so serious as true love would have
been a jarring note. If statesmen are mentioned, something
is added to lower the conception :

230 SELECTION.

Here Britain's statesmen oft the fall foredoom
Of foreign tyrants, and of nymphs at home.

So of a great queen in council :

Here thou, great Anna, whom three realms obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take — and sometimes tea.

On the other hand, " Paradise Lost" excludes as rigidly
every thing that is insignificant or frivolous ; what is merely
graceful is not admitted unless it is also important; e.g.,
the light touches in the character of Eve are admitted only
because she is the type of Womanhood. It has been ques-
tioned whether the Paradise of Fools in Book III. is not
a violation of the unity of tone. What the proper limit
of this rule of exclusion is, has been a matter of dispute.
French critics have held, for example, that comedy and
tragedy ought never to be mixed. Shakspeare, however,
habitually introduces a comic ingredient into his tragedies,
and in his comedies he admits tragic passions, though
perhaps not tragic incidents. (" Cymbeline " and " Winter's
Tale" are not properly comedies: see below.) In one case
he seems to have felt his subject to be too great to allow of
mirth. In " Macbeth " there is only one short comic scene,
which has furnished the subject of much discussion.

160. Selection in Dramatic Poetry.— Dramatic poetry,
we have said, is an imitation of conversation, and sometimes
of oratory. Not everything, however, that is admissible in
real conversation or oratory is admissible in the imitation
of it. Heal conversation is extremely desultory and unme-
thodical, and always contains much that would not be inte-
resting to an audience of strangers. It is the business o^ the
dramatic poet to diminish to the utmost this uninteresting
element, and to give some unity to what is in reality ge

SELECTION. 231

rally wanting in unity. But in doing so lie must carefully
preserve something of both characteristics of real conversa-
tion, and carefully avoid giving to his imaginary conversation
the appearance of a methodical discussion, really devised by
one mind, and only for form's sake distributed among dif-
ferent interlocutors. Here is a specimen from "Hamlet"
which illustrates the unmethodical character conversation will
assume when a principal interlocutor is pursuing a private
train of thought with intense eagerness :

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.

Hold you the watch to-night?
All. We do, my lord.

Earn. Armed, say you ?
All. Armed, my lord.

Ham. From top to toe ?

All. My lord, from head to foot.
Ham. Then saw you not his face ?
Hor. Oh yes, my lord ; he wore his beaver up.
Ham. What, looked he frowningly ?
Hor. A countenance more

In sorrow than in anger.
Ham. Pale or red ?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham. And fixed his eyes ilpon you?

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham. I would I had been there,

Hor. It would have much amazed you.
.60771. Very like, very like. Stayed it long?
Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred,
Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.
Hor. Not when I saw it.
Ham. His beard was grizzled, — no ?
Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silvered.
Ham. I will watch to-night ;

Perchance 'twill walk again.
Hor. I warrant it will.

232 SELECTION.

In the same way, real oratory, we have said, is seldom
interesting except to the particular audience to which it is
addressed. The dramatic poet, in imitating oratory, has to
overcome this difficulty. His temptation will be to substitute
didactic composition for oratory, that is, to fill the speech
with generalities and subtleties fit for his own but unfit for
his speaker's audience. But a skilful dramatist will know
how to make oratory interesting without depriving it of its
essential character, will attach it by particulars to the time
and the place, and contrive to find reflections that are
universally intelligible, and can yet be made permanently
interesting. This talent Shakspeare has in an unrivalled
degree. The following specimen of true dramatic oratory is
from Taylor's ' ' Philip Van Artavelde ' ' :

Sirs, ye have heard these knights discourse to you

Of your ill fortune, telling on their fingers

The worthy leaders ye have lately lost :

True, they were worthy men, most gallant chiefs;

And ill would it become us to make light

Of the great loss we suffer by their fall ;

They died like heroes ; for no recreant step

Had e'er dishonoured them, no stain of fear,

No base despair, no cowardly recoil :

They had the hearts of freemen to the last,

And the free blood that bounded in their veins

Wa^ shed for freedom with a liberal joy.

But had they guessed, or could they but have dreamed,

The great examples which they died to show

Should fall so flat, should shine so fruitless hero.

That men should say, " For liberty they died,

Wherefore let us be slaves ; " had they thought this,

Oh, then, with what an agony of shame,

Their blushing faces buried in the dust,

Had their great spirits parted hence for heaven !

What! shall we teach our chroniclers henceforth

To write that in five bodies were contained

SELECTION. 233

The sole brave hearts of Ghent ? which five defunct,
The heartless town, by brainless counsels led,
Delivered up her keys, stript off her robes,
And so with all humility besought
Her haughty lord that he would scourge her lightly !
It shall not be — no, verily ! for now
Thus looking on you as ye stand before me,
Mine eye can single out full" many a man
Who lacks but opportunity to shine
As great and glorious as the chiefs that fell. —
But lo ! the Earl is mercifully minded !
And surely if we, rather than revenge
The slaughter of our bravest, cry them shame,
And fall upon our knees and say we've sinned,
Then will my lord the Earl have mercy on us,
And pardon us our letch for liberty !
What pardon it shall be if we know not,
Yet Ypres, Courtray, Grammont, Bruges, they know ;
For never can those towns forget the day
When by the hangman's hands five hundred men,
The bravest of each guild, were done to death
In those base butcheries that he called pardons.
And did it seal their pardons, all this blood ?
Had they the Earl's good love from that time forth ?
Oh, sirs ! look round you lest ye be deceived ;
Forgiveness may be spoken with the tongue,
Forgiveness may be written with the pen,
But think not that the parchment and mouth pardon
Will e'er eject old hatreds from the heart.
There's that betwixt you been which men remember
Till they forget themselves, till all's forgot,
Till the deep sleep falls on them in that bed
From wThich no morrow's mischief knocks them up.
There's that betwixt you been which you yourselves,
Should you forget, would then not be yourselves ;
For must it not be thought some base men's souls
Have ta'en the seats of yours, and turned you out,
If in the coldness of a craven heart
Ye should forgive this bloody-minded man
For all his black and murderous monstrous crimes?
Think of your mariners, three hundred men,

234 ARRANGEMENT.

After long absence in the Indian seas,

Upm their peaceful homeward voyage bound.

And now, all dangers conquered as they thought,

Warping the vessels up their native stream,

Their wives and children waiting them at home

In joy, with festal preparation made, —

Think of tnese mariners, their eyes torn out,

Their hands chopped otf, turned staggering into Ghent,

To meet the blasted eyesight of their friends !

And was not this the Earl? 'Twas none but he !

No Hauterive of them all had dared to do it,

Save at the express instance of the Earl.

And now what asks he ?

ARRANGEMENT IN ARGUMENT.

Arrangement may be considered under the heads of Argu-
ment and Narration, which are the two principal forms that
composition assumes. Argument and Narration are subject
to rules which differ somewhat according as they occur in
compositions belonging to the four styles above described.

161. Arrangement in Argument. — In conversation,
argument scarcely admits of any arrangement, and therefore
only such arguments are adapted for conversation as can
be stated very briefly. In imaginative literature also, few
special rules are required for argument. When argument
occurs in this style it is generally put into the mouths of
imaginary characters, and belongs therefore either to con-
versation or to oratory. Accordingly, it adopts the rules to
which it is subject in those styles. There are poems, in-
deed, such as Pope's " Essay on Man," or Dry den' a 4- Be-
ligio Laici," in which the poet reasons throughout in his
own person; but these compositions belong essentially to
didactic composition, and not to imaginative literature

ARRANGEMENT. 235

They are exceptional cases in which metre, which is com-
monly confined to imaginative literature, is adopted in
didactic composition.

Argument, therefore, may be said to belong almost ex-
clusively to Oratory and Didactic Composition.

162. Argument in Oratory. — It is the characteristic of
oratory that it must be understood at once, and produce all
its effect at once, since it attempts to influence a certain de-
cision which is near at hand. The whole effort of the orator,
therefore, is devoted to attaining (1) clearness, (2) force.

The whole argumentation of a speech consists of a number
of separate arguments which the speaker has to combine,
and each argument consists of facts alleged in evidence, and
a conclusion drawn from the evidence.

To attain clearness, the speaker must make the connection
between his facts and his conclusion perceived in each sepa-
rate argument. To attain force, he must combine his argu-
ments in such a way that they may be all apprehended and felt
at once.

In other words, he has two problems to solve : first, to
form facts into an argument ; secondly, to compound argu-
ments into an argumentation.

State the conclusion you are going to arrive at before pro-
ducing your facts. In didactic composition you may conceal
your conclusion, and, as it were, entice your reader into it
gradually. But in oratory this is scarcely possible, and
nothing is so unendurable as a long statement of facts from
which some conclusion is afterwards to be drawn.

It is not enough to state the conclusion, and then
produce the facts that prove it. The conclusion must be
stated over and over again. It must be made, if possible, to

236 ARRANGEMENT.

penetrate the whole statement of evidence, so as to appear in
every sentence of it. If this statement of evidence involves,
as it often will, long quotations from documents, then there
must be a recapitulation for the express purpose of bringing
the facts into connection with the conclusion.

The combining of arguments into an argumentation is done
by an introduction and a close, an exordium and a peroration.
In the one a survey is given of what the audience is to
expect, and in the other a recapitulation, in which the argu-
ments are rapidly enumerated and so concentrated upon the
hearer's mind.

But the speaker has not only to convey his arguments to
an attentive audience, he has to make it attentive at the
beginning, and prevent it from becoming inattentive during
the progress of his speech. For this purpose all the wit and
imagination he has will be serviceable. But also he must
remember that the beginning is important, — the beginning of
the whole speech, the beginning of each division of it. It is
necessary to seize the attention at first ; when this has been
done, the less interesting facts, arguments of minor import-
ance, qualifications, concessions, may be cautiously intro-
duced.

The audience must be presumed, not only inattentive, but
forgetful, and even dull. The most important points of the
argument, therefore, must be stated pointedly, with antithesis
or striking metaphor, so that they may be easily remembered.
The following is an admirable example of facts and arguments
powerfully concentrated, so as to force a particular conclu-
sion upon the mind : —

"The noble lord, after owning that we had no foreign alliances,
had triumphantly spoken of unanimity, and congratulated gentle-
men on that side of the House upon having aMied themselves with

ARRANGEMENT. 237

those who sat on the other. This was an assertion for which
there was not the smallest foundation ; and it was impossible
for him to state, in any phrase that language would admit of,
the shock he felt when the noble lord ventured to suggest what
was exceedingly grating to his ears, and he doubted not to the
ears of every gentleman who sat near him. What ! enter into an
alliance with those very Ministers who had betrayed their coun-
try, who had been prodigal of the public strength, who had been
prodigal of the public wealth, who had been prodigal of what
was still more valuable, the glory of the nation ! The idea was
too monstrous to be admitted for a moment. Gentlemen must
have foregone their principles, and have given up their honour,
before they could have approached the threshold of an alliance
so abominable, so scandalous, and so disgraceful ! Did the noble
lord think it possible that he could ally himself with those Minis-
ters who had lost America, ruined Ireland, thrown Scotland into
tumult, and put the very existence of Great Britain to the
hazard 1 — ally himself with those Ministers who had, as they now
confessed, foreseen the Spanish war, the fatal mischief which
goaded us to destruction, and yet had from time to time told
Parliament that the Spanish war was not to be feared 1 — ally
himself with those Ministers who, knowing of the prospect of a
Spanish war, had taken no sort of pains to prepare for it 1 — ally
himself with those Ministers who had, when they knew of a Spanish
war, declared in Parliament, no longer ago than last Tuesday,
that it was right for Parliament to be prorogued, for that no
Spanish war was to be dreaded, and yet had come down two
days afterwards with the Spanish rescript ] — ally himself with
those Ministers who, knowing of a Spanish war, and knowing
that they had not more than thirty sail of the line ready to send
out with Sir Charles Hardy, had sent out Admiral Arbuthnot to
America with seven sail of the line, and a large body of troops
on board 1 — ally himself ivith those Ministers who, knowing of a
Spanish war, had suffered seven ships of the line lately to sail to
the East Indies, though two or three ships were all that were
wanted for that service, and the rest might have stayed at home

238 ARRANGEMENT.

to reinforce the great fleet of England ? — ally himself with those
Ministers who, knowing of a Spanish war, and knowing that the
united fleets of the House of Bourbon consisted of at least forty,
perhaps fifty, and possibly sixty sail of the line, had suffered Sir
Charles Hardy to sail on Wednesday last, the day before the
Spanish rescript was, as they knew, to be delivered, with not
thirty sail of the line, although, if he had stayed a week longer,
he might have been reinforced with five or six, or, as Ministers
themselves said, seven or eight more capital ships ? To ally
himself with men capable of such conduct would be to ally him-
self to disgrace and ruin. He begged, therefore, for himself and
his friends, to disclaim any such alliance; and he declared he was
the rather inclined to disavow such a connection, because, from
the past conduct of Ministers, he was warranted to declare and
to maintain that such an alliance would be something worse than
an alliance with France and Spain ; it would be an alliance with
those who pretended to be the friends of Great Britain, but who
were in fact and in truth her worst enemies." — Fox.

It is further to be remembered that even an attentive
audience finds a certain difficulty in following a close argu-
ment. It is therefore found necessary to adopt contrivances
for making language clearer than it is as commonly used.
Of these the principal is a perpetual repetition in long
sentences of some important or connecting words. This
subject has been treated above. See Pages 122, 123.

163. Argument in Didactic Composition — Such
contrivances, though necessary in oratory, are not wanted
in treatises intended to be read at leisure, and admitting
of being read over again. And, in becoming unnecessary,
they become positive faults and hindrances to persuasion.
A rhetorical speech is one adapted to persuade, but a book
is generally the less persuasive for being rhetorical.

ARRANGEMENT. 239

In didactic composition, argument should approach the
character of scientific demonstration, and should borrow in
the main its arrangement. But,

(1.) It should suppose the reader capable indeed of follow-
ing a scientific demonstration, but requiring some helps. It
should answer objections, furnish illustrations, and in fact
render such assistance as a tutor might render in explaining
a scientific theorem to a pupil.

(2.) It should affect moderation in language. The orator
seeks forcible expression to produce an immediate effect, but
the writer should always rather understate than overstate his
case. Unmeasured praise or blame may carry away an
audience, but a reader will suspect exaggeration.

(3.) It should be careful to make all reasonable conces-
sions to the opposite side. An orator has seldom space to
do this. He must be content to bring out the merits of
his own case. But as there is always something to be said
on the other side, a reader, when he sees a case made out
too clearly, has time to suspect that the opposite case has
been suppressed, and will not give full confidence to his
author unless he finds the opposite case exhibited with
scrupulous and anxious candour. Macaulay sometimes fails
to convince in consequence of forgetting this rule, and of
trying to overwhelm an opponent in the rhetorical fashion.

ARRANGEMENT IN NARRATION.

Narration is of secondary importance in oratory, as argu-
ment is in imaginative literature. Narration belongs princi-
pally to didactic composition and to imaginative literature,

240 ARRANGEMENT.

164. Narration in Oratory — In oratorical narration
everything is subordinate to clearness. Where the incidents
are numerous and minute, a hearer's memory is apt to fail
him. To assist it, the orator will use (1) Omission. That is,
he will omit as many minute incidents as he can spare. (2)
Emphasis. That is, he will distinguish the more important
incidents by marked prominence, (3) Grouping. That is,
he will group them as much as possible by likeness in kind,
and as little as possible by mere chronological order.

Oratorical narration is always subordinate to argument.
The conclusion which it is intended to establish should,
therefore, serve to bind together the different incidents intro-
duced.

In the following account of the changes which followed the
accession of George III., remark how the notion of a court
cabal is introduced to explain all the incidents, and how almost
every sentence either begins or ends with it : —

"It happened very favourably for the new system, that under
a forced coalition {i.e., between Pitt and Newcastle) there
rankled an incurable alienation and disgust between the parties
which composed the administration. Mr. Pitt was first attacked.
Not satisfied with removing him from office, they endeavoured
by various artifices to ruin his character. The other party
seemed rather pleased to get rid of so oppressive a support,
perceiving that their own fall was prepared by fcis, on<f involv<
it. Many other reasons prevented them from daring to look their
true situation in the face. To the great Whig families it was ex-
tremely disagreeable, and seemed almost unnatural, to oppose
the administration of a prince of the house of Brunswick. Day
after day they hesitated, and doubted, and lingered, expecting
that other counsels would take place ; and were slow to be
persuaded that all which had been done by the cabal was the
effect, not of humour, but of system. It was more strongly

ARRANGEMENT. 241

and evidently the interest of the neiv court faction to get rid of
the great Whig connexions than to destroy Mr. Pitt. The
power of that gentleman was vast indeed, and merited ; but
it was in a great degree personal, and therefore transient.
Theirs was rooted in the country ; for, with a good deal less of
popularity, they possessed a far more natural and fixed influence.
Long possession of government, vast property, obligations of
favours given and received, connexion of office, ties of blood, of
alliance, of friendship (things at that time supposed of some force),
the name of Whig, dear to the majority of the people, the zeal
early begun and steadily continued to the royal family, — all
these together formed a body of power in the nation which icas
criminal and devoted. Tlie great ruling principle of the cabal,
and that which animated and harmonized all their proceedings,
how various soever they may have been, was to signify to the
world that the Court would proceed upon its own proper forces
only, and that the pretence of bringing any other into its service
was an affront to it, and not a support. Therefore, when the
chiefs were removed, in order to go to the root, the whole party
was put under a proscription so general and severe as to take
their hard-earned bread from the lowest officers, in a manner
which had never been known before, even in general revolutions.
But it was thought necessary effectually to destroy all depend-
encies but one, and to show an example of the firmness and
rigour with which the new system was to be supported." — Burke.

165. Narration in Didactic Composition. — In oratory,
the number of incidents to be narrated is seldom so large
as to embarrass the speaker ; but in didactic composition
it is different. One great subdivision of didactic com-
position is history. In the history of a country during
any considerable period about which the documents are
numerous, the number of facts which might be introduced
is almost infinite. One of the greatest qualities of a historian
is the power of dealing with vast multitudes of facts in such

242 ARRANGEMENT.

a way as to bring them well within the range of the reader's
understanding and memory. We have already spoken of the
suppression of unnecessary facts in history. Not less im-
portant are (1) the proper subordination of unimportant to
important facts ; (2) the subdivision of the whole field
lying before the historian both into departments according to
subject-matter, and into periods according to time.

It is the more difficult to determine the relative importance
of historical incidents because it varies so much with their
nearness to the present time. Incidents that are near acquire
importance by the personal interest that many readers may
have in them, and by the degree of that interest. Incidents
that are distant are made important by the consequences that
have flowed from them. Most historians, therefore, have to
apply to the incidents they describe a scale of importance
entirely different from that which was applied by the con-
temporary writers from whom they draw their information.
For example, a war of the most commonplace kind is far
more interesting so long as it lasts, and for some little time
after it has come to an end, than the creation of the most
important new institution. But when wars have become
remote in time, they commonly become uninteresting. Yet,
historians, finding much fuller accounts of them than of
peaceful incidents, are under the greatest temptation to make
them too prominent. Livy's history is an example, in which
almost everything that we most wish to know about ancient
Rome is unsatisfactorily recorded, while the narrative is
overloaded with a quantity of unnecessary military details.

What is true of incidents is true also of characters.
Characters that arc in the foreground of the political stage
attract the attention of history, not because of their intrinsic
importance, but because of their prominence. Thus the his-

ARRANGEMENT. 243

torian of the early years of George III. might scarcely allude to
Arkwright or Wedgewood, who permanently affected English
industry ; or to Wesley, who powerfully affected the national
character ; while he might tell us much of Bute and Henry Fox,
whose influence comparatively was transient and superficial.
Evidently a historian cannot but fall into mistakes of this
kind unless he reflects carefully upon the object he has in
view. The earliest histories were little more than lists of re-
markable occurrences drawn up in the annalistic form. The
modern theory of history is that it should be a collection of
facts calculated to throw light upon the laws regulating the
evolution of societies. Most historians place themselves
somewhere between these two extremes, and arrange their
narratives partly on one principle and partly on the other.

Moreover, a long narrative requires subdivision. It is
necessary to distinguish periods in history. If this is well
done, the reader's memory and power of conception are
greatly assisted. Here, again, a false method is very apt to
present itself. In monarchical countries the accessions of
the successive sovereigns are the dates chiefly used. Where
the monarchy is despotic, this is justifiable, though seldom
quite satisfactory. In the age of Louis XIY., the activity, and
in that of Louis XV., the inactivity of the sovereign stamped
the period in French history more than any other single cir-
cumstance. But the English sovereigns since Anne have not
had this importance, and probably the principal reason why
most people conceive the eighteenth century of England much
less clearly than the seventeenth is that in the seventeenth
century the sovereigns did determine their age, and in the
eighteenth did not.

The following are the headings of chapters in Mommsen's
" History of Rome," vol. ii. : —

244 ARRANGEMENT.

u The subject provinces till the time of the Gracchi. — The Re-
form Movement and Tiberius Gracchus. — The Revolution and
Caius Gracchus. — The Regime of the Restoration. — The Nations
of the North. — Attempt at Revolution by Marius, and Attempt
at Reform by Drusus. — Insurrection of the Italian Subject
Population and Sulpician Revolution. — The East and King
Mithradates. — Cinna and Sulla. — Sulla's Constitution. — The
Commonwealth and its Economy. — Nationality, Religion, Edu-
cation, Literature, and Art."

Such a classification, assuming it to be correct, is much
more luminous and useful than " From Accession to Death
of Augustus," " From Accession to Death of Tiberius,"
etc., which tells us nothing about the course of events in
general.

166. Narration in Imaginative Literature. — Imagi-
native literature is chiefly narrative. The different forms of
imaginative narrative are novels, romances in prose and verse,
idylls in prose and verse, epic poems.

In novels, the interest turns chiefly on character and
manners. Thackeray's " Vanity Fair " is an example of
this. Metrical novels are not a recognized form of com-
position, though the experiment has been tried ; for instance,
by Mrs. Browning in " Aurora Leigh."

In romances, character and manners are subordinate to
adventure. Example, — " Ivanhoe." Roman* very

frequently metrical. What we call a ballad is generally a
short metrical romance. The revival of the English ballads
by Percy led to an attempt, in which all the greatest poets
of the succeeding age united, to create a literary style
in which the metre and manner of the ballad were adapted
to long and sustained romances. Examples are — Coleridge's
" Christabel," Scott's " Lay of the Last Minstrel," " Mar-

ARRANGEMENT. 245

raion," " Lady of the Lake," etc.; Byron's "Giaour,"
"Bride of Abydos," " Siege of Corinth," etc. ; Wordsworth's
"White Doe of Rylstone," the tales in Moore's " Lalla
Rookh."

Idylls x are pictures of rustic life, in which the incidents are
selected, not for their intrinsic interest, nor as illustrations
of character, but as specimens of the kind of life led, or
supposed to be led, by rustics. The best example in prose
is the " Yicar of Wakefield ;" in verse, Wordsworth's "Mi-
chael," Tennyson's " Enoch Arden."

In epic poems the incidents are selected for their great-
ness, for their importance to a particular nation, or to the
human race. Character may play a considerable part, but
does not generally play the principal part in an epic poem.
The true hero of an epic poem is Providence. In the iEneid
the character of the hero seems intentionally kept down ; and
though Milton has been accused of making Satan his hero,
he himself announces that his object is to assert eternal
Providence.

Dramatic poems are not narrative in form, or rather the
narration is despatched summarily in short directions to the
reader or stage-manager, and is made entirely subordinate to
the conversations of the dramatis persona. Nevertheless the
dramatic writer, quite as much as any narrator, has to con-
sider the arrangement of his incidents.

The word dramatic simply refers to a peculiarity in the
mode adopted of presenting the incidents. Every dramatic
poem therefore may, or rather must, belong also to one of the
kinds of imaginative narration above described. It must be
either a novel or a romance, or an idyll, or an epic poem.

1 The word is less commonly applied to any short descriptive poem.

246 ARRANGEMENT.

But plays differ from novels and romances in the same
way as oratory differs from didactic composition, i.e., they
are intended to be delivered in public rather than to be read,
and must therefore produce their effect at once. Conse-
quently it is found to be necessary to make the interest in a
play stronger and simpler. A play requires incident more
absolutely than a novel, and it has* been usual to make a play
depend definitely either upon pathos or humour. In most
novels the grave and the gay are freely mixed, but plays as a
general rule are either tragedies or comedies. Nevertheless
there are conspicuous exceptions. " Cymbeline " and " The
Winter's Tale " are neither tragedies nor comedies, but
simply dramatic stories. Neither the tragic nor the comic
element can be said perceptibly to predominate in them.
We might call " Hamlet" a novel, because the interest lies
predominatingly in character; and " The Tempest" a
romance, because incident predominates (though Shakspeare's
genius leads him to introduce striking studies of character
everywhere).

Some plays, again, are idylls. Examples : " The Faithful
Shepherdess," " Comus," " As You Like It."

Lastly, others may be called epic poems. Hallam calls
" Macbeth " epic ; and the two parts of " Henry IV.," taken
together with " Henry V.," describing the growth and gra-
dual course to victory and fame of a national hero, make the
nearest approach to a national epic that England possesses.

167. Construction of a Plot. — In imaginative narration,
since the incidents are more or less invented by the narrator,
we have to consider the rules, not merely for the arrange-
ment, but for the invention of them, — in other words, rules
for the construction of a plot.

ARRANGEMENT. 247

All plots must be interesting, but there are different kinds
of interest belonging to the different sorts of imaginative
composition. To mix the different kinds of interest so as to
leave a confused impression on the mind is the commonest
mistake in the construction of plots. For example, Addison
in his " Cato," following the French school, introduces love-
stories. Now the history of Cato is interesting, and love
stories are interesting, but Cato's character — nay, the Roman
character in general — was so entirely foreign to love in the high
sentimental sense of the word, that the two sorts of interest
cannot be brought together without an extreme sense of
incongruity. It therefore never occurs to Shakspeare to
introduce love into his " Julius Caesar," though he finds
room for the conjugal heroism of Portia.

It must be admitted, however, that this rule of keeping
apart the different kinds of interest has been very little ac-
knowledged in English literature. As we have mixed tragedy
and comedy, so we have very freely mixed the romance and
novel. As the national genius for character- drawing is very
marked, incident without character does not often satisfy us.
And in general our writers, rightly or wrongly, have not
shown the sensitiveness that has been shown by the writers
of some other nations on the subject of unity of design. See
above, p. 280.

168. Different kinds of interest.— Incidents are in-
teresting either in themselves or indirectly, e.g., for the
light they throw on character, or for the consequences that
flow from them. Narrations that depend on the intrinsic
interest of incidents are, as we have said, called romances ;
sometimes we use the phrase " novels of plot."

169. Incidents are interesting in themselves,

248 ARRANGEMENT.

(1), when they are strange or marvellous. Fairy tales
are of this kind, and many of the mediaeval romances. But
mere marvellousness is interesting chiefly to children or
uncivilized nations. "When great writers deal in the marvel-
lous they commonly add something of a higher kind. Caliban
in Shakspeare is interesting, not simply because he is mar-
vellous, but because of the subtlety with which his character
is drawn.

(2), when they introduce the elements of danger and
heroism. Hence the great prominence of war in works of
imagination, from the Iliad downward. As civilisation
advances, the interest of this also wears off to a certain
extent. It becomes necessary here also to add some season-
ing. Scott, in whom the old Homeric delight in warlike
adventure remained wonderfully fresh, adds, in those of his
novels which interest grown people most, either religous
enthusiasm, as in "Old Mortality," or wild manners and wild
scenery, as in " Waverley," and in his mediaeval romances a
certain theatrical pomp of costume. In the " Westward Ho ! "
of Mr. Kingsley the love of adventure is exalted by religious
feeling.

(3), when they are unexpected. The reader's attention
may be kept awake by creating in him a perpetual wonder
and curiosity to know what is coming next. For this pur-
pose disguises, strong family likenesses, Machiavellian or
Jesuitical intrigues, are used. This sort of machinery also
soon wears out, and few imaginative works of a very high
class have admitted it. Miss Austin's " Emma" may be cited
as an instance of a mystification kept up with great success,
and without any aid from such machinery.

70. Incidents that illustrate character.— Incidents
are interesting indirectly when they bring out character. It

AEEANGEMENT. 249

is of incidents of this kind that the plots of all novels and
all plays of a high order are composed.

But a great distinction is to be drawn between plots that
are intended to illustrate human nature in general and those
that are intended to illustrate the peculiarities of individual
character. The former might perhaps be better classed with
romances, because for the most part the incidents which are
to throw new light upon human nature in general must be
strange and exceptional ones. A good example of this style
is " Robinson Crusoe." It is a study of what thoughts
would be excited in the mind of a man isolated for a long
time from his kind. But, as it has been remarked, Robinson
Crusoe has no peculiarity of character, nothing which
differences him from other people. It is therefore a study of
human nature in general, not properly speaking a study of
character. The exceptional incident was necessary to make
" Robinson Crusoe" interesting. And by similar exceptional
incidents any character may be made interesting. We may
thus imagine tragedies full of passion and human interest,
without any character at all. Each personage might speak
naturally up to a certain point, yet none of them charac-
teristically. For example, Evander's speech in bidding fare-
well to Pallas has often been praised as natural. It is a
natural utterance of a father sending his son to the wars,
but it has nothing characteristic of that particular father.

But though human nature in general cannot be made
interesting but by putting it in exceptional and affecting
situations, individual character can be portrayed by incidents
of the commonest kind. The traits of a strongly marked
character are visible in every word and movement. Novels
of character, therefore, often confine themselves to incidents
in themselves very trivial, but there is room for great art in

250 ARRANGEMENT.

the selection of such incidents. The chief incidents in Jane
Austen's novels are meetings in shops, or at balls or picnics,
and much the same may be said of Thackeray's novels. In
Thackeray it is remarkable that he avoids the great incidents
that fall in his way, and confines himself to tracing the small
domestic consequences of them. In "Vanity Fair," for
example, the novelist stays at Brussels while the battle of
Waterloo is being fought.

But character may be displayed by great incidents as well
as by small. And on the stage great incidents are looked
for. Most plays, therefore, may be regarded as novels with
more incident than is necessary in a novel, and sometimes
as romances with much of the novel added. Shakspeare,
though a master of the art of delineating character by slight
touches, always introduces strong and stirring incident as well.

171. Idyllic Incidents. — Incidents may get a special
kind of interest from exhibiting the simplicity of country
life. When civilisation becomes complicated, and concen-
trates itself in cities, there arises by reaction a peculiar
pleasure in contemplating the simple, half animal life that
has been left behind, and this pleasure has left a great
mark on literature. In idylls, the plot is for the most part
simple, as most idylls are short.1 Great incidents are entirely
out of place in the foreground of an idyll, but in the back-
ground they may advantageously be introduced in order to
bring out the tranquillity and simple uniformity of rustic
life the more strongly by contrast. In the great German
idyll, " Hermann and Dorothea," the wars of the French
Kevolution are used in this way with great effect Nor
should the incidents be intricate, or such as to excite

1 From Greek " eidullion " — " a little image."

ARRANGEMENT. 251

curiosity, for this is alien from the purpose of an idyll, nor
such as to illustrate character in any special way. So far
as human beings are introduced, they are introduced for
the purpose of exhibiting neither individuality nor general
humanity, but rustic humanity ; the incidents, therefore,
should be so contrived as to bring out the differences between
the rustic and the citizen.

" The Yicar of Wakefield " has a world-wide reputation in
this style, a reputation deserved by the exquisiteness of par-
ticular scenes. But the plot is marked with all Gold-
smith's heedlessness. The improbabilities of it have often
been pointed out. Here it is more in place to note the
entire want of unity of tone, and the reckless mixture of
different kinds of interest. By the side of the rustic family
so admirably sketched, we have a picture, which seems
transferred from another story, of the hardships of a literary
life in London, an essay on forms of government and the
advantages of monarchy, a scene from a comedy in which
a footman plays the part of his master, and, finally, a
number of startling incidents and unexpected discoveries
belonging to a novel of plot. By way of contrast, this
plot should be compared with the plot of " Hermann and
Dorothea."

172. Epic Incidents. — Lastly, incidents may be made
interesting by bringing out and insisting upon their im-
portance. This is the characteristic of narratives that are
properly epic. The plot of the iEneid illustrates this well.
For the plot of a romance it would be very uninteresting,
for the incidents have little that is striking in them ; nor
have they any interest as illustrations of character, except
in the case of Dido, and in a less degree of Camilla ; nothing
can be more insipid than the character of JEneas himself.

252 ARRANGEMENT .

But they would have for Romans, and for Romans who
believed in them, another kind of interest, and it is this
which Virgil keeps in view. Upon these adventures of
iEneas, often so uninteresting in themselves, depends the
founding of Rome and the Roman empire. " Tantae molis
erat Romanam condere gentem." It is as the instrument of
Providence that iEneas is regarded throughout, and for that
reason the only character given to him is that of passive
obedience to divine direction.

The business of the epic poet is to keep his hand on the
providential clue to the maze of events. His capital mistake
would be to mix up incidents merely interesting or romantic,
or illustrative of character, with the fatal, properly epic,
incidents. If he can contrive to make these properly epic
incidents romantic at the same time, so much the better.
The story of Dido is very romantic and passionate, yet it is
not the less properly epic. The question at issue is not
merely the fate of Dido herself, but whether Carthage or
Rome shall be the centre of empire ; what seems the b
ness of iEneas is seen to be the irresistible force of the
fate that draws him; the rage of Dido is a poetical fore-
shadowing of the Punic Wars.

It sometimes happens that there is a story in which a
whole nation feel profoundly interested, a story of some crisis
to which they trace their freedom, or happiness, or greatness.
If a poet arises who can describe this worthily, we have an
instance of a thoroughly successful epic poem. In such an
epic there will be found nothing of the novel or romance, no
effort to amuse or interest the reader, for the reader is pre-
sumed to be profoundly interested already. If invention is
used, it will be used sparingly, and the tradition, as generally
believed, will be respected. The narration will be deliberate

ARRANGEMENT. 253

and serious, and means will be taken to open long vistas of
future and past events, so as to make the critical character
of what is supposed to be taking place in the present more
evident. Such are the narrative of the fall of Troy put into
the mouth of JEneas, and the vision of Roman heroes to
which Anchises acts as showman ; such in " Paradise Lost "
the narrative of the fall of the angels by Eaphael, and that of
the course of human history by Michael.

But of completely successful epics, accomplishing what
was deliberately attempted, there are scarcely any examples.
What the poet feels deeply his reader often feels much less
deeply, and therefore most epic poems are considered
heavy. Moreover, the critical spirit which is now applied
to history makes epic poetry more than ever difficult. Yirgil
could not probably have written the iEneid had he believed
the story of iEneas to be untrue, and the critical spirit will
not even tolerate the mixture of fable with truth.

"Whether future poets will succeed in treating real history
in the epic manner, renouncing the right of invention entirely,
but still finding scope in the selection, interpretation, and
appreciation of incidents according to their historical import-
ance, may be left an open question. Carlyle has tried this
in his " History of the French Revolution, " which resembles
an epic poem more than any other work of this age.

APPENDIX.

HINTS ON SOME EERORS IN REASONING.1

173. Use of Logic in Literature. — Without attempting
to enter into the details of formal logic, it will be useful to
have some knowledge of the errors in reasoning that most
commonly meet us in the course of our reading.

When two men draw opposite inferences from the same
facts, a phenomenon not unfrequent in historical and
dramatic literature, it is natural for the reader to ask, not
only which is the correct and which the incorrect inference,
but also why the former is correct and the latter incorrect.
The drama represents characters under the influence of
exceptionally powerful circumstances or uncontrollable pas-
sions. Lear on the verge of madness, and Othello in his
fit of jealousy, are not unlikely to draw illogical inferences.
Edmund and Iago, who make it their business to pervert the
truth, are professionally bound to lead their victims into
false inferences. Hence, even when reading " Lear " or
" Othello," we shall find it useful to be able to detect errone-
ous reasoning. Sometimes the error is easily detected. When
Eichard II. addresses thus the two combatants, Bolingbroke
and Mowbray, who accuse one another of high treason :

1 The greater part of this chapter is based on Mr. Mill's remarks on "The
Fallacies."

256 EEEORS IN REASONING.

We thank you both, yet one but flatters us,
As well appeareth by the cause you come,

Richard II.

he takes for granted that " when two men accuse one
another of the same crime, one is guilty."

Again, when Buckingham urges that the young Duke of
York, the child of Edward IV., ought not to be allowed the
right of sanctuary at Westminster, because

The benefit thereof is always granted
To those whose dealings have deserved the place,
And those who have the wit to claim the place :
This prince hath neither claimed it nor deserved it,
And therefore in mine opinion cannot have it ;

Bichard III.

he argues that, " since the guilty are the persons who need
sanctuary, therefore the innocent (when in fear for their
lives, because they are being treated as though they were
guilty,) ought not to be allowed sanctuary." And his next
argument,

Oft have I heard of sanctuary men :
But sanctuary children ne'er till now,

lb.

is based upon the premise, " Whatever I have never heard
of, cannot possibly be right."

Simple as is the detection of these fallacies, they are often
very misleading. The argument last quoted, " Whatever is
new to me must be bad," has often been repeated with
effect, and in the particular instance it is successful. The
Cardinal replies to Buckingham :

My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for once.

ERRORS IN REASONING. 257

An altogether different kind of reasoning presents itself
when Timon of Athens is led to infer from the conduct of
his creditors that all men are bad :

All is oblique :
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
But direct villany.

Afterwards, when convinced of the honesty of his steward,
he refuses to alter his conclusion about mankind, but treats
it as a unique exception :

I do proclaim
One honest man —mistake me not — but one.

Here evidently the error, if there is an error, is of a
different kind from the errors in the previous examples ; and
the question suggests itself, How many instances justify one
in laying down a rule, and how many exceptions are re-
quired to destroy a rule ?

The sources of error are technically called Fallacies. They
naturally correspond to the different sources of knowledge,
which will therefore be considered first.

SOURCES OP KNOWLEDGE.

174. I. Personal Observation. — How do we know the
truth of any statement — as, for instance, that a certain horse
has four legs ? Obviously the most direct means of knowing
this is to see or touch the horse. Hence we arrive at the
first source of knowledge, viz., Personal Observation.

Evidence. — On the supposition that every one spoke the

258 ERRORS IN REASONING.

truth, evidence would be another kind of personal observation.
But in practice the truth of evidence depends both on Personal
Observation and on the two following Sources of Knowledge as
well. If a man tells us, "I have seen a horse with five legs,"
we have to inquire, 1st, Is it possible that he may be mistaken ?
(Personal Observation) ; 2nd, Does he generally speak the
truth ] (Induction) ; 3rd, Are there any special circumstances
that might lead us to suppose he is speaking truly or falsely 1
(Deduction).

175. II. Induction. — We cannot from our own per-
sonal observation know that all horses have four legs. All
that we know is that all the horses we have ever seen or
heard of, have had four legs. But this knowledge of indi-
vidual horses gives us a kind of certainty about the class.
Each new instance of a four-legged horse that is introduced
tends to convince us (if we are not already convinced) that
all horses have four legs. This process, by which wre are
led to statements about a class from the introduction (called
by Cicero induction) of individual instances, is called Induc-
tion.

176. III. Deduction. — But how do we know that a
particular horse, unseen by us, Bucephalus for instance, had
four legs ? We may reason as follows. ' We have discovered
by Induction that " all horses are quadrupeds ; " Bucephalus
was a horse; therefore Bucephalus was a quadruped.' Or
thus: i If Bucephalus had not had four legs, such a monstro-
sity would have been specially mentioned by historians ; but
it has not been mentioned ; therefore it did not exist, and
Bucephalus had the ordinary number of legs.' This process,
by which from two statements we deduct' a third, is called
Deduction.

EEEORS IN REASONING. 259

SOURCES OF ERROR.

177. I. Prejudice. — The first source of error is Preju-
dice, which at the outset substitutes desire for reason.

178. II. Mai-Observation. — Non-Observation. —
We may observe carelessly or omit observing.

179. III. False Generalization, or Induction. —

While we are proceeding from the observation of individuals
to a statement about a class or genus, we are liable to error.
The most obvious error is to make the general statement, or
generalize, as it is called, from insufficient observation. Thus
a child might infer that all men are kind from the single
instance of his father, or, from more numerous but still in-
sufficient instances, that all men are white.

180. IV. Confusion. — Sometimes, when we are deduc-
ing a statement from two other statements we may (1) con-
fuse the meaning of the words, or (2) we may not understand
what statement is intended to be deduced. Thus (1)

An effective speaker persuades his audience ;

He always speaks effectively ;

Therefore he always persuades his audience.
Here is a confusion between " effective" in the second
statement, used rightly in the sense of " calculated to be
effectual," and effective in the first statement, wrongly used
for " effectual." Another very common error is to use a
verb, in one of the premises, with an implied qualification of
" generally," and then, in the conclusion, to use the verb
without that qualification, or even to insert " always."
Thus:

A skilful speaker [generally) persuades his audience ;

He is a skilful speaker ;

Therefore he always persuades his audience.

260 ERRORS IN REASON IXC

Such errors are called "errors of confusion." Examples
of (2) are not uncommon : a juror may think that a man
is proved to be a thief because he is proved to be a vagrant ;
or a barrister may prove that a man is a very amusing rogue,
when the real thing to be proved is that the man is not a
rogue at all ; and he may confuse a jury into fancying that
he has proved the latter, when he has only proved the former.

181. V. False Ratiocination, or Deduction. — Even
though the two statements from which we deduce a con-
clusion are correct and clearly understood, yet in the process
of deduction we are liable to mistakes which will be described
hereafter. One example will suffice for the present :

All Englishmen like roast beef ;

I like roast beef ;

Therefore I am an Englishman.

HOW TO AVOID ERROR.
182. Personal Observation and Prejudice. — There
is nothing which seems to us so certain as that which we
have ourselves seen, heard, or otherwise perceived by our
senses. And we may say with truth, strictly speaking, that
our senses never deceive us. J But it is very difficult to dis-
tinguish the evidence of our senses from the inferences which
we draw from that evidence ; and these inferences are often
mistaken. Even in such a statement as "I am happy," an
inference is implied that the state of the speaker resembles a
state of which the speaker has often heard, called " happi-

1 It is not intruded here to touch on the subject of so-cnllcd optical
delusions, and other results of an excited imagination. Even in such eases
it may fairly be said that the person who Bees the sight is right in Baying
that lie sees it, and only wrong in inferring that others must sec it, or that
he can touch what he sees.

ERRORS IN REASONING. 261

ness." The inference may be wrong, and the speaker ought
perhaps to have said, " I am merry," or "I am contented.'*
Such mistakes as these are common with children and
foreigners, and they can only be avoided by experience and
observation. But they would generally be treated as mis-
takes in the use of language, and would not come within the
province of Logic.

A different kind of mistake occurs when a child says, " The
sun moves," and on being told that he is wrong, replies, " I
see it move." The child does not see the sun move ; he only
sees the sun changing its place relatively to trees, houses, and
hills, all of which appear to remain fixed, and he thence infers
that the sun moves. In the same way, a grown-up man
might assert that on some misty day he had seen the sun
rise some seconds before the time set down in the calendar,
whereas he had merely seen an image of the sun raised to an
unusual degree above the horizon by excessive refraction.
These are mistaken inferences. In saying " I am happy,"
the meaning of the speaker was correct, but his words did
not express his meaning. In saying " The sun moves," the
speaker expresses his meaning, but his meaning is wrong.

Beside the natural tendency to draw hasty inferences of
any kind, we are also tempted to force our inferences from
observation to correspond with our prejudices or misconcep-
tions. Thus, a timid child who is predisposed to see fearful
sights by night, mistakes a bush or post for a ghost or a
robber; a person who has been told of " the man-in-the-
moon," finds it easy to trace in the moon the features of a
man.1 Such prejudices have often seriously retarded the

1 Or in the night, imagining some fear,
How easy is a bush supposed a bear !

Midsummer Night's Dream.

262 ERRORS IN REASONING.

progress of science by preventing careful observation. Thus,
it was long thought that, the circle being a perfectly sym-
metrical figure, the heavenly bodies must move in circles ;
the earth being superior in dignity to the sun, could not
move round the sun ; a weight ten times as heavy as another
must fall ten times as fast ; the magnet must exercise an
irresistible force, etc. It is said that even now, the negroes
affirm that the colour of the coral which they wear as an
amulet is affected by the health of the wearer.

Authority frequently originates and supports prejudice.
Thus for many years it was affirmed on the authority of
Galen that there was a communication between the two
sides of the heart. Men dissected and examined, and
remarked that the communication was hard to see, but they
were prevented by prejudice from seeing that there was no
communication at all.

Another fertile source of prejudice is a false belief that
whatever causes phenomena must resemble the phenomena, and
vice versa. Hence it was thought that the planet Mars,
being red, like blood, caused bloodshed ; that the elixir
vitse, being precious, must be some mixture containing
potable gold, the most precious of all metals ; that the lungs
of the fox, a long-winded animal, were a specific against
asthma, etc.1 It follows that, if we desire to attain to the
truth, we must, before and whilst observing, keep our minds
clear from prejudice.

183. Induction by Enumeration. — The Induction
which proceeds from the mere enumeration of instances to
a general statement about a class, as, for example, from " all

1 The fat of an adder was once thought to be an antidote against the effects

of its bite. Compare the proverb about " a hair of the (\o<z that hit you. "

ERRORS IN REASONING. 263

the horses that I have seen or heard of have had four legs,"
to " all horses have four legs," is evidently an insecure
method of proof. It is based upon the principle of the
uniformity of nature, " what has been is and will be." We
may think it absurd to suppose that a horse could have six
legs. But so it might have seemed absurd some centuries
ago 'to a negro in the heart of Africa to doubt that " all
men are black," or to a North American Indian to doubt
that " all men are red," or to a Malay to doubt that " all
men are yellow."

184. Induction is always incomplete. — When a
negro who had been in the habit of maintaining that " all
men are black " met a white or red man, he would have two
courses open to him. He could either say that the white
was not a man, or he could give up his old definition of
man, and make a new one. Thus all statements that result
from merely enumerative induction are temporary and
liable to correction. They may therefore be called pro-
visional. Sometimes the instances enumerated may be
ludicrously insufficient, as if a child of a soldier in the Scots
Greys should infer from induction that all horses were grey ;
but in no case is an induction complete unless it includes the
whole of the class, in which case it ceases to be an Induction,
and becomes Personal Observation.

Thus, if a traveller were to write "the average height of
Englishmen is a good deal above five feet/' as the result of his
observation, this would be incomplete, and an induction ; but if
the height of each Englishman were registered, and the traveller
were quoting from the registering table, this would be complete,
but not induction at all. It would be the result of the personal
observation of those who supervised the accuracy of the registra-
tion.

264 ERRORS IN REASONING.

185. Induction with Experiment. — If, however, we
could make a horse artificially, and show that, in whatsoever
way manufactured, a horse would have four legs, that would
be an additional confirmation of the statement, " all horses
have four legs." This process is not possible with respect
to horses, but it is possible with respect to many natural
phenomena, and it is called Experiment. Thus, take the
thunder which follows lightning. As we almost always see
lightning before we hear thunder, we might infer that the
lightning caused the thunder, but we could not be certain.
But by means of the electric machine we can manufacture
mimic lightning in a variety of circumstances, and observe
the mimic thunder which follows, and thus we obtain proof,
which we can repeat as often as we like, that the lightning
causes the thunder.

186. Induction without Experiment. — Without Ex-
periment, there is danger of being misled in Induction.
Suppose I have taken a Turkish bath, and next day I catch
a violent cold. I perhaps infer that the cold was caused
by the Turkish bath. But I may be wrong ; for I may
have been out of doors in the evening afterwards, or I may
have sat in a draught at home, or I may have contracted
the cold beforehand. Therefore, before I can infer that the
Turkish bath caused the cold, I must not merely try a
Turkish bath several times, but I must also vary the circum-
stances in connection with it. If I find that, whether I keep
indoors or go out, whether I wear light clothing or heavy,
in these and other varied circumstances a Turkish bath is
always followed by a cold — then, and not till then, shall I be
justified in saying that a Turkish bath gives me a cold.
The error of saying that whatever follows an occurrence is

ERRORS IN REASONING. 265

caused by that occurrence, is soraetirnes called " Post hoc,
ergo propter hoc," Le.f " After this, and therefore on account
of this:'

Closely connected with this mistake is that of supposing
that when we have found one cause we have found all the
causes of an event. Thus, if we are ill and take medicine,
and then get well, it by no means follows that the medicine
was entirely, or in great part, or even in any degree, the
cause of our getting well. The numerous natural forces at
work within our bodies claim consideration, and they may
have been entirely, and always are to a great extent, the
causes of recovery from illness.

187. Partial Induction. — Carelessness and partiality
induce us to select some instances while we reject others.
Bacon tells us that human nature is more impressed by
positives than by negatives. If Fortune occasionally favours a
fool, we are more impressed by a single instance of such
favouritism than by many instances where fools have not
been favoured, and we hastily assert, " Fortune favours
fools." If a new medicine works a few cures, we are more
struck by the few cures than by the many failures. Again,
so strong and so imperceptible is the bias of partiality, that
historians of honesty, Protestant and Romanist, Republican
and Royalist, sometimes record the same occurrences,
inserting some details and omitting others, and thereby pro-
ducing results so different as to make it hard to recognize
any similarity between them.

188. Analogy meaning Likeness. — Analog}- meant
originally an Equality of Ratios, or Proportion. It is some-
times, however, loosely used to represent not so much pro-
portion, as the similarity and regularity of natural phenomena.

266 ERRORS IN REASONING.

Thus we are said to infer by Analogy that l " because there
was frost last January, there will probably be frost next
January," or, from the fact that our planet is inhabited, to
infer that all planets are inhabited. This is simply the argu-
ment from Enumerative Induction, and the basis of it is
" what has been will be."

The regular recurrence of natural phenomena impresses
this reasoning most forcibly upon us, and there are few things
past or present of which we feel more sure than of the sun's
rising to-morrow, although to many of us the only ground of
our confidence is that "it always has been so." But the
force of such Analogy, if it is to be so called, varies (beside
other considerations) with the number of instances observed,
for while we feel confident of the sun's rising, we feel by no
means confident in inferring from the single instance of our
planet, that other planets are inhabited* In this sense of
the word, the argument from Analogy is the same thing as
the argument from Induction.

189. Analogy meaning Similarity of Relations*.—

More frequently Analogy is used in its strict sense of Propor-
tion to signify Similarity of Relations. Thus " as a child is
undeveloped in strength and language, so an infant state is
undeveloped in political and military power, and in literature "
is an Analogy. This and other similar Analogies between
the individual and the state are deducible from past, and may
or may not be contradicted by future, history.

190. Argument from Analogy basing itself on recog-
nized Analogies mounts to others that are not recognized,
thus : "As a child attains to youth and manhood, and in the
end dies, so a state, after passing through a period of vigour

1 Bishop Butler's " Analogy," Introduction.

EREORS IN REASONING. 267

and prosperity must in the end decay." This is no argument
at all, unless it can be shown that the same natural causes
of decay which exist in a child exist also in a state. Though
a state be like an individual in one or two points, the like-
ness need not extend to three or four, any more than salt
need be sweet because it happens to resemble sugar in being
white.

The Argument from Analogy, therefore, so far as it is an
argument at all, comes under the head of Induction. Other-
wise it is not an argument, but a metaphorical illustration of
an argument. Thus, " a metropolis is valuable, for it is to
the country what the heart is to the human system, receiving
and returning the elements of vitality," is an implied Analogy
and true. But " the metropolis is like the heart of the
country, and therefore must not increase while the country
does not increase," and "when the heart of the country
ceases to beat, the country must cease to exist," are rhetori-
cal falsehoods founded on the Metaphor " The metropolis is
(not ' is like') the heart of the country."

191. Deduction, Technical Terms of. — In order to
deduce a conclusion from two preceding statements1 (called
Pre-mises), the Premises must have some connection with
one another. Nothing can be deduced from" all horses are
quadrupeds," " all monkeys are bipeds." The two Premises
must have something in common. This is called the Middle
term. The Subject and Logical Predicate 1 of the conclusion

1 A statement is technically called in logic a proposition. No verb
except the verb to be is allowed in a proposition. Thus we must not say-
All men desire happiness,
but All men are beings desiring happiness.

Here, as in Grammar, " all men" is the subject, but there is a difference
as to the meaning of "predicate" in Grammar and Logic.

In Grammar it is usual to give the name of predicate to whatever is said

268 ERRORS IN REASONING.

are called respectively the Minor ard Major terms. The

statements containing the Minor and Major terms are called
respectively the Minor and Major Premises. Thus :

MIDDLE TEEM.

MAJOR TLRM.

Major Premise

. All quadrupeds

are

animals.

MINOR TERM.

MIDDLE TI.KM.

Minor Premise

. All horses

are

quadrupeds.

MINOR TERM.

MAJOR TERM.

Conclusion

. All horses

are

animals.

Two Premises

and their conclusion

are

together called

a Syllogism.

192. A Syllogism implies Inclusion. — A Syllogism
(with certain exceptions which will be considered below)
states that the Minor term is included in the Middle, and the
Middle in the Major, and infers that the Minor is included in
the Major, just as one might say that a spoon was in a cup,
and the cup in a basin, and thence infer that the spoon was
in the basin. This is of course true if the spoon is entirely in
the cup, and the cup entirely in the basin. And in the same
way, as long as the Minor is entirely included in the Middle,
and the Middle in the Major, it will follow that the Minor
will be entirely included in the Major. If the spoon be only
partially in the cup, then, though the cup be entirely in the
basin, we can only argue that that pari of the spoon which is in
the cup is in the basin. Similarly, if the Minor be only partly

about the subject, e.g., " are beings desiring happiness." In Logic, on the
other hand, the verb to be is separated from the grammatical predicate,

and is called the link or copula. After the copula has been deducted, the
remainder of the grammatical predicate, e.g., " beings desiring happiness,"
may be called the logical predicate.

ERRORS IN REASONING. 269

included in the Middle, we can only argue about that part
of the Minor which may happen to be in the Middle ; thus
from, —

MIDDLE. MAJOR.

Major Premise . All prosperous men are respected

MINOR. MIDDLE.

Minor Premise . Some good men are prosperous

it only follows that that section of good men which is pros-
perous is respected.

If the spoon be entirely in the cup, but the cup only
partially in the basin, we can infer nothing about the spoon.
In the same way, if the Middle be only partially in the Major,
we can infer nothing. Thus from

MIDDLE.

MAJOR.

Major Premise

. Some honest men

are

unfortunate

MINOR.

MIDDLE.

Minor Premise

. All good men

are

honest

we can infer nothing. We only know that all good men
constitute a section of honest men, and that a section of
honest men is unfortunate ; but whether the two sections are
wholly or partly identical, there is no means of deciding.

If care be taken that the Minor be included in the Middle,
and the Middle in the Major, the conclusion will be sound,
and mistakes in Deduction, of which a large variety might
be enumerated, will not occur.

193. Illustration of the inclusion of the Syllogism.

— The following diagrams carry out in detail the illustration
just now given of the spoon, cup, and basin. The Minor term,

270

ERRORS IN SEASONING.

or spoon, is represented by s n, the Middle term, or cup, by
CUP, and the Major term, or basin, by B A S N. The con-
clusion is represented by the position of s n with respect to
BASN.

A V s

Minor wholly in Middle ; Middle wholly in Mai or.

Result,

Minor s n entirely in BASN, Major.

All men are endowed with reason;

All fools are men ;

Therefore all fools are endowed with reason.

Minor partly in Middle ; Middle partly in Major.
Result wholly uncertain.

(sn maybe partly )

1 s' n' wholly \ in B A S N, Major.

\s" n" not at all)

Minor

Some lucky persons are clever ;
Some dishonest persons are lucky ;
Nothing ibllows.

ERRORS IN REASONING.
3.

271

Minor wholly in Middle ; Middle partly in Major.
Result wholly uncertain.

Minor

s n

s' n'

s" n"

wholly
partly
not at all

inBASN, Major.

Some honest men are foolish ;
All good men are honest ;
Nothing follows.

Minor partly in Middle ; Middle wholly in Major.
Result,

Minor \ * n' must,be PP*}y 1 in B A S N, Major.

\s n may be wholly j ' J

All persecution is impolitic ;
Some prosecution is persecution ;
Therefore some prosecution is impolitic.

$S* It is also possible, as far as this syllogism goes, that all prosecutions
may be impolitic.

272

ERRORS IN REASONING.
5.

A n ~~5 ** n'u

Minor not in Middle ; Middle not in Major.
Result wholly uncertain.

(sn maybe wholly ^
Minor Vn' nartlv V i

(s"n"

partly
not at all

Honest men are not unjust;

Thieves are not honest men ;
Nothing- follows.

in B A S N, Major.

Minor •< $'

U -s- 3 *» It"

Minor not in Middle ; Middle wholly in Major.
Result wholly uncertain.
8 n may be wholly \

partly ^ J- in B A S N, Major.

I not at all

Thieves are dishonest men ;
Just men are not thieves ;
Nothing follows.

6*.

Minor not in Middle; Middle partly in Major.
Result wholly uncertain.

Can be Been from (I.
Some thieves are cruel ;
Jnst men are not thieves ;
Nothing- follows.

ERRORS IN REASONING.

273

Minor wholly in Middle ; Middle not in Major.

Result.

Minor s n not in Major, BASN.

Those wftio learn something are not utterly ignorant ;

All industrious students learn something ;

Therefore (all industrious students) are not utterly ignorant ;

i.e. (in better English), No industrious student is utterly ignorant.

Minor partly in Middle ; Middle not in Major.

Result.

Minor {- -ybe P^ } ^ B AgN, Majo,

Minor cannot be wholly in Major, BASN.

Men who are poor are not said to be successful in life ;

Some honest men are poor ;

Therefore some honest men are not said to be successful in life.

(It is possible, as far as this syllogism is concerned, that some honest men
may be, or that none may be, said to be successful ; but all cannot be.)

274 ERRORS IN REASONING.

194. Ambiguous Case. — Where the subject in a Propo-
sition is put in the form " not all," e.g..

Not all the good are rich,
there is an uncertainty. Such a Proposition will be satisfied
if " no good men," and also if "only some good men, are
rich," i. e.y if the subject be not at all included, or only
partially included, in the Logical Predicate. We must take
the case which proves least. For example :

Rich men are not despised,

Not all the good are rich.
Here, if we could interpret our Minor as meaning " some
only of the good are rich," we should have (8), and might
infer with certainty "the good are not all despised." But
the Minor is satisfied if u none of the good are rich," and
in that case we have (5), and nothing is proved.

Conversely, but upon the same principle, (7) which is a
case of non-inclusion, must not be used, because it proves
something, and (3) which is a case of partial inclusion, must
be used because it proves nothing, in the following example :

Not all the good are sinless.

Those who are happy are good.
In the last example, we were right in interpreting " Not all
the good are rich" to mean "None of the good are rich."
Nowhere, if in the same way we could interpret "Not all
the good are sinless" to mean "None of the good are
sinless," we should infer, from (7) :

Those who are happy are not included in the class of
those who are sinless.
But the Major is satisfied if " only some of the good are sin-
less:" and in that case we have (3), which proves nothing.

195. Propositions of Identity. — It is not always true

ERRORS IN REASONING. 275

that a proposition expresses that the subject is included in
the logical predicate. In " All squares are equilateral rect-
angular figures," there is no inclusion, but identity. So
" Paris is the capital of France," is an identity. In this
case one of the three terms of the syllogism may be said to
be wholly included in another, but is also identical with it.
All the conclusions which follow, as seen above, in the cases
of total inclusion, follow here. Other conclusions also
follow, as will be shortly seen ; but everything that is true,
as the result of inclusion, is also true of identity, so that
there is no difficulty in applying the diagrams representing
total inclusion in the last paragraph, to propositions that
express identity.

196. Ambiguity of Predicate. — Take the following
irregular quasi- syllogism :

All equilateral triangles are equiangular triangles ;
All isosceles triangles with an angle of 60° are equi-
angular triangles ;
Therefore all equilateral triangles are isosceles triangles
with an angle of 60°.
This is correct : why is the following incorrect ?
All horses are animals ;
All goats are animals ; l
Therefore all horses are goats.
The answer is, that there is an ambiguity in the Predicates
of the propositions. In the former argument "all" might
have been written before the Middle term " equiangular tri-
angles, in the latter "all" could not have been written be-
fore " animals." This ambiguity would have been avoided
if we had written in the first argument " all equiangular

1 This error is technically called " the error of the undistributed middle."

276 ERROES IN REASONING.

triangles," and in the second argument " some animals." In
this way we should have defined how much of the predicate is
occupied by the subject, whether all or only part. This pro-
cess has been called "the quantification of the predicate."

197- Conversion of Propositions. — Mistakes are
sometimes made in converting a proposition, i.e., in changing
the subject into the logical predicate, and the logical pre-
dicate into the subject. Thus, from " all good men are
truthful," it is sometimes inferred that " all truthful men are
good," whereas, since we only know that " all good men
are included in the class of truthful men," we can infer
no more than that "among truthful men there are some
who are also good," or, in other words, "some truthful
men are good." A statement or proposition in which the
logical predicate is predicated of the whole of the subject, as
of " all good men," is called a Universal proposition ; where
the logical predicate is predicated of a part of the subject,
as of " some truthful men," the proposition is called
Particular. We therefore see that the conversion of a
Universal affirmative proposition1 results in a Par-
ticular. If, however, we have a Universal negative, as,
"No good men are contemptible," it follows that "in the
class of contemptible men there are none who are good,"
i.e., "no contemptible men are good ;" or generally, a Uni-
versal negative may be converted.

198. Denial of the Antecedent. — The antecedent is
the logical name for a condition, e.g., "if he is guilty ; " the

1 Unless it be a " Proposition of Identity " (see 195). Propositions of
Identity are of course convertible, e.g.,

Paris is the capital of France.

Right angles are angles of ninety degrees.
They are really definitions.

EKRORS^IN REASONING. 277

consequent is the logical name for the consequence of the
condition if fulfilled.

If he is guilty, he will blush.

You can infer nothing from denying an Ante-
cedent. Thus, it is futile to argue :

If he is guilty, he will blush ;
But he is not guilty ;
Therefore he will not blush ;

for a man may blush if he is guilty, but he may also blush
for other reasons, as, for example, at being accused of guilt.
And generally, if I deny an antecedent, I only deny that
the consequent will take place as the consequent of that
antecedent, but it may take place as the consequent of
other antecedents.

Similarly, you can infer nothing from affirming a
Consequent. For example, I am not justified in arguing :

If he is guilty, he will blush ;

But he blushes,

Therefore he is guilty ;
or, as was said above, blushing may be caused by other
feelings beside the consciousness of guilt.

On the other hand, if the Consequent be denied, the
Antecedent is denied.

199. The Error of the Suppressed Premise. — When
the Premises are correctly and clearly stated, the conclusion
is not often incorrectly deduced. Mistakes more frequently
arise from taking for granted a Premise that is not stated,
but suppressed. In such cases the Premise, or conclusion,
or both, are generally stated informally and loosely, otherwise
error would be impossible. Thus :

278 ERRORS IN REASONING.

Falkland was a good man ;

Falkland was a man who sided with Charles I. against

the Parliament ;
Therefore it was a good action to side with Charles I.
against the Parliament.
This argument is based upon the suppressed Premise that
" every action of a good man is good." All that can be
inferred from the Premises is that " a good man sided with
Charles I. against the Parliament."

200. The Error of the Variable Middle.— Some-
times, and especially when a syllogism is irregularly stated,
the Middle term is used with different meanings in the Major
and Minor Premise. Thus :

The nature of a clock is to indicate the correct time ;

To deviate from the correct time is the nature of a clock ;

Therefore to deviate from the correct time is to indicate
the correct time.
Here the word " nature " in the first statement means
the intention of the maker, but in the second the custom of
the thing made. Such errors are exceedingly common with
respect to other words in very common use, such as
" church," " happiness," " liberty," " rights," "repre-
sentative," "necessity," " afford/' " must," etc., and
mistakes can only be avoided by carefully defining before-
hand the sense in which we understand the terms. The
neglect of this precaution gives rise to much misunder-
standing and waste of time.

It is evident that in passing from one syllogism to another
we are even more liable to the error of varying our terms
than in passing from one Premise to another.

201. The Error of the Forgotten Condition. — Error

ERRORS IN REASONING. 279

sometimes arises when a Premise is stated subject to a cer-
tain implied condition which, not being expressed, is after-
wards forgotten. Thus :

The doubling of the supply of a useful metal, iron, lead,

etc., is a thing to be desired [;
The doubling of the supply of gold is the doubling of

the supply of a useful metal ;
Therefore, the doubling of the supply of gold is a thing
to be desired.
Here " useful," as applied to gold in the Minor Premise,
implies a utility that is dependent on rarity, and this condi-
tion is forgotten in combining the Minor with the Major.

Connected with this error is the forgetfulness of the rela-
tive force of an epithet. A rat is an animal, and a chess-
player is a man, but a " huge rat " is not a " huge animal,"
nor need " a clever chess-player" be "a clever man."

202. Errors of Confusion.— (1.) Ignorance of the
point in question.1 — Error arises from confusing the point
in question. This is very common in law courts, and is
effectively employed in producing a prejudice. Thus, if a
clerk has pleaded guilty to a charge of fraud, but excuses
himself on the ground that he was misled by companions,
exposed by his employer to overwhelming temptation, or in-
duced by poverty to commit the crime, the counsel for the pro-
secution might ignore the point in question, which is, whether
the circumstances extenuate the crime, and might insist on
what is not denied, that " after all the fellow is a rogue."

203. Errors of Confusion.— (2.) Begging the ques-
tion. (3.) Reasoning in a circle. — A second error of
confusion arises from taking for granted in the course of the

1 This error is often called " Ignoratio Elenchi."

280 ERRORS IN REASONING.

Premises the conclusion to be deduced ; thus :

An autobiographer's evidence is trustworthy ;

Robinson Crusoe says he is an autobiographer ;

Therefore Robinson Crusoe's evidence is trustworthy.
Here in the Minor Premise we assume the trustworthiness
of Crusoe's evidence; i.e., the conclusion.

When this error is extended to attempting to prove two
propositions reciprocally from one another, thus, — " We
know that the story of Robinson Crusoe is true, because it
is an autobiography written by one who could not be mis-
taken about the incidents of his own life, and we know that
it was an autobiography because the book tells us it was " —
this is called reasoning in a circle.

204. Definitions. — A Definition is a statement stating
the class to which a thing belongs, and the difference by
which the thing is distinguished from other things of the
same class. Every definition, therefore, should first mention
the class or genus of the object, and then the difference by
which it is limited off (de-jinio) from the rest of the class.
Thus man is first an animal [genus), then a rational (differ-
ence) animal. Should we hereafter find out other rational
animals, with wings, suppose, and beaks, we should either
have to call the newly-discovered animals men, or else to
narrow our definition. All definitions that are the result of
past, and may be changed by future, observation, may be
coiled provisional.

205. Definition and Description. — In defining, after
mentioning the genus, care should be taken to select that
point of difference which is least likely to cease to be a point
of difference upon further observation. Thus to define
" man " from the genus " animal," the difference " rational "

EKROKS IN REASONING. 281

is obviously more suitable than " biped and featherless," or
" cooking," or " two-handed." For the old definition of " a
featherless biped," included a plucked cock ; and a " cooking
animal" would, if some naturalists are to be believed, include
the butcher-bird, which is said to spit its prey upon a thorn
before devouring it.

206. Essentials and Accidents. — Those defining differ-
ences which are regarded as peculiar to the object defined
are called essentials, the others, accidents. An enumeration
of the accidents of anything may serve to define the thing;
but such a definition is called a description. Y/e can define
an animal, and a man, and a knight, but we cannot define an
individual, e. g. , Sir John Falstaff. For the definition would
be " a knight (genus) who is (difference) Sir John Falstaff."
We could however give a description of him as "a man
several feet round the waist, weighing so many pounds,
more fond of feasting than of fighting," etc.

207. Mathematical certainty.— No definition that is
subject to changes can be called final. As a rule, therefore,
a definition is not final unless the object defined depends
for its very existence on the definition, as, for instance, a
circle, a triangle, a line. There is no such thing in the
material world as " length without breadth," and therefore
the definition of a line cannot be changed by the observation
of new material lines. It is desirable to remember, when
" mathematical certainty" is spoken of, that the " certainty"
depends upon the unalterable nature of the definitions, and
the definitions are unalterable because the objects defined
have no existence except in definition.

208. Probable Propositions. — In practice we are in
the habit of acting, not on certainties, but on probabilities.

282 ERRORS IN REASONING.

Where the premises are not certain, but only probable, it
follows, of course, that the conclusion also is only probable.
But more than this follows. A conclusion that depends upon
the truth of two probable propositions is less probable than a
conclusion that depends on the truth of one of the two pro-
positions. Take the following case :

It is probable that I shall find my friend at home ;

My friend's brother is sure to be with him ;

Therefore it is probable that I shall find my friend and
his brother at home.
Here the probability of the conclusion is as great as the pro-
bability of the first premise. But in the second premise
substitute " will probably be " for "is sure to be." Evidently
an additional improbability is introduced into the conclusion.
In the former case, if you find your friend, you are sure
to find his brother also ; in the latter, even though you find
your friend, you may not find his brother. Every new pro-
bable condition introduced, introduces a new improbability
in the conclusion dependent on the conditions.

It is usual to denote certainty by one. And we say that if A
is spinning a penny, the chance that tail will turn up is half.
But if A, B, C simultaneously spin a penny, the chance that
A and B will find tail turn up is not a half, but a half multiplied
by the chance of B's turning up tail ; i.e., half multiplied by a
half, or a quarter ; and the chance that A, B, and C will all
turn up tail is a half multiplied by a half, multiplied by a half,
or an eighth. For a detailed consideration of the question of
probabilities, it is desirable to study the subject mathematically;
but it is useful to remember, whenever we are told that " A is
probable, and B is probable ; therefore A and B are probable,"
that though tiro events may be, each in if self, likely to occur, Vic
occurrence of both simultaneous! y is much less lil

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QUESTIONS.

FIRST PART.

CHAPTER I.
Words Defined by Usage.

1. Show how the Method of Induction is applied to the discovery of the
meaning-s of words. Illustrate by the word oppression. (Par. l.)i

2. What do you mean by elimination ? Show how the meaning and deri-
vation of the word define are connected. (1,2.)

3. Show, illustrating by a diagram, how a child might discover by induction
the meaning of the word black, (2.)

4. Show the connection between classification and definition. (3.)

5. Show by an example the use of elimination before definition. (4.)

6. What are synonyms ? Give instances. (7).

7. Why are synonyms more common in English than in other lan-
guages? (7.)

8. Define, using the process of elimination, (a) proud as compared with
presumptuous, insolent, haughty, vain ; (b) authority compared with
strength, influence; (c), tribe compared with nation, people, race, popu-
lace, population, family. (8.)

9. What is an anonym ? Show how anonyms can often be readily found.
Mention any anonyms connected with resentment, ambition. (10.)

10. Show, by instances, that language is deficient in terms expressing
average qualities. Why is this ? (10.)

11. What is generalizing? What is an abstract term? Explain the
origin of these names. (11.)

12. Give general terms including moon, circle, sword, shilling. (11.)

1 The number at the end of each question refers to the paragraph whore the
question will be found answered.

QUESTIONS. 285

13. Give groups of words connected severally with time, motion, think,
anger. (12.)

For other questions, see pages 12, 13, 16.

CHAPTER II.

"Words Defined by Derivation.

1. Show, with instances, how a word can sometimes be at once understood
from knowing the meaning of its roots. (13.)

2. Show, with instances, the danger of trusting entirely for the meaning
of a word to a knowledge of its roots. (14.)

3. What are hybrids? Mention hybrids that are recognized as good
English. (15.)

4. Show, by instances, that the Latin prefixes are often disguised in
English words. (16.)

5. What is the derivation and original meaning of Utopia ? What is its
present meaning ?

6. What is the force of the verbal prefixes be-, for-? (18.)

7. What is the force of the noun affixes -ard, -eery, -ing, -ism ? (19.)

8. What is the force of the adjective affixes -ly, -tive? (20.)

9. Show, by the derivative from the Latin root fac-, that the method of
derivation is insufficient to ascertain the meaning of a word. (22.)

10. Why is a knowledge of the Greek roots peculiarly useful ? (24.)

11. Mention the different classifications of the consonants ? (26.)

12. What is Grimm's Law ? Give instances. (25, 27.)

13. Give instances of contraction of words in derivation. (29.)

14. Give instances of liquid changes in derivation. (31.)

15. Show that it is natural for a word to change its meaning in passing
from one language to another. (34.)

16. Show that the Law of Contraction of Meaning is natural in a civilized
nation. (35.)

17. What words are especially liable to have their meaning extended ? (33.)

18. Give instances of the Law of Deterioration.

For other questions, see pages 23, 29, 35 — 41, 44, and the following pages.

SECOND PART.

CHAPTER I.
1. What is the object of poetry as distinct from that of ordinary prose? (40.)

286 QUESTIONS.

2. What arc the three characteristics of poetic diction, as distinct from
the diction of prose ? (40.)

3. Show, by instances, that poetic diction is archaic. (41.)

4. What is meant by sensuous when Milton says that poetry should be
" simple, sensuous, and passionate"? Why does sensuous language eschew
generic terms ? Give instances. (42.)

5. Show that Poetic Diction uses epithets for the things denoted. (42# .)

6. What is meant by Ornamental Epithets! Give instances. (42b.)

7. What is meant by Essential Epithets ? Give instances. (4*2c.)

8. Show that Poetry is averse to lengthy phrases. Give instances ot
Poetic Compounds. (43a.)

9. Give instances of short Poetic forms of words. (43&.)

10. Give instances to show that Poetry prefers euphonious words. (43r.)

11. Mention some exaggerations of the Poetic Characteristics, giving any
instances that you remember. (44.)

12. Mention some different styles of Poetry, and the characteristics of each.
(45.)

13. What is the style of Milton's " Paradise Lost" ? Give an instance anp
an exception. (46.)

14. What is grotesqueness ? What is bombast ? (47, 48.)

15. What is bathos ? Give an instance. (49.)

16. Criticize the style of Pope's " Odyssey," giving instances. (50.)

17. What is the Graceful Style ? Give instances, and illustrate by the
correction in the later edition of " The Miller's Daughter." (51.)

18. What are the dangers of the Graceful Style? Illustrate by Thom-
son's " Seasons." (52.)

19. What is the general style of the Elizabethan dramatists ? Give in-
stances. Quote some passages in which the characteristics of this style appear
to be carried to excess. What justification is in some cases possible ? (54, 55.)

20. Criticize the diction of Dryden. (54.)

21. When is the Simple Style in place ? What is its danger ? (06, 57.)

CHAPTER II.

1. How does the diction of Prose differ from that of Poetry ? Why should
it? (59.)

2. Show that impassioned prose may approximate to the (a) metre,
(b) brevity, of Poetry. In what point does the best Prose of this kind keep
itself distinct from Poetry? (60.)

3. Mention some writers who have not preserved the distinction referred
to in the last question. (61.)

QUESTIONS. 287

4. How has the authorized version of the Bible influenced our choice
of words ? (Page 94.)

5. Criticize the style of Lamb. (61)

6. What is the best broad rule for writing English Prose ? (62.)

7. To what qualifications is this rule subject ? (63, 64, 65, 66.)

CHAPTER III.

1. What technical metaphors are admissible, as a rule, in polite diction
What technical metaphors are inadmissible, and treated as slang? (6&.)

2. What is the fault of fine icriting ? Whence does it arise ? (69.)

3. When are poetic quotations and periphrases admissible, and when not ?
(70.)

4. Whence does tautology arise ? What is the remedy for tautology ? (71. )

5. What different causes may give rise to obscurity ? (72.)

6. Distinguish between a long enumerative sentence and a long com-
plicated sentence. WTiat is a heterogeneous sentence ? Wherein consists
the difficulty of underst anding the latter ? (72.)

7. Show how Inversion, and the non-repetition of the Nominative, some-
times produce obscurity. (Pages 114, 115.)

8. Show how (a) the Personal Pronouns and (b) the Relative Pronouns
sometimes give rise to ambiguity. (Pages 116, 117.)

9. Show how (c) not, (d) any, (e) but, are sometimes ambiguously used.
(Pages 118, 119.)

10. Show how (/) Adverbs, (g) Participles, (h) Infinitives sometimes
cause ambiguity. (Pages 119, 120.)

11. Why must we bestow more pains on the arrangement of words in
writing than in conversation ? (74.)

12. Describe the Rhetorical Period. What are the two great requisites
of Rhetoric, and show how they lead to the Rhetorical Period ? (75.)

CHAPTER IV.

1. What is a Simile? (77.)

2. What is a Metaphor? Why is Metaphor better suited than Simile
lor Prose ? (78.)

3. Show, by instances, that implied Metaphor is the basis of a great part
oi language. (80.)

4. Give definite rules for expanding a Metaphor. What is the fourth term
in the proportion ? Give instances. (81.)

5. What is Personification ? Give instances. (82.)

288 QUESTIONS.

6. Distinguish between Personification and Personal Metaphor. (83.)

7. Show that Personification can be analysed. (85.)

8. Show the naturalness and convenience of Personal Metaphor. (86.)

9. Show the difficulty of distinguishing between Personification and Meta-
phor. (87.)

10. Distinguish between Metaphor and Hyperbole. Give instances. (87.)

11. Distinguish between Metaphor and Confusions of Similarity. (88.)

12. Give rules for distinguishing between good and bad Metaphors. Illus-
trate bv instances. (89.)

THIRD PART.

CHAPTER I.

1. When is Rhythm appropriate ? When is Metre ? (91, 92.)

2. Show that Shakspeare does not use Poetry and Prose at random. (93.)

3. Explain the origin of Didactic Poetry. (94.)

4. Show that there might be more than one basis for the distinction be-
tween Prose and Poetry. What is the basis in English Poetry? (96.)

5. What is a Foot ? State, with instances, the different kinds of feet. (97.)

6. Distinguish between Accent and Emphasis. (99.)

7. Show that English Accent favours Disyllabic Metre ? (100.)

8. State clearly, with instances, the rules respecting the use of the unem-
phatic Metrical Accent. Show that an unemphatic Metrical Accent is often
followed by an emphatic non-accented syllable. Why is this? (101.)

9. What is the purpose served by unemphatic Metrical Accents ? (105.)

10. Show, by instances, that the Metrical Accent is not always equally
emphatic. (106.)

11. Within what limits does the number of unaccented syllables in each
foot vary. Mention some recognized variations. (107.)

12. Show, by examples, that the prevalent foot must sometimes determine
whether Metre is disyllabic or trisyllabic ? (108.)

13. What is Rhyme ? Mention some faults in Rbvmin"-. (109, 110.)

14. What is the disadvantage of Double Rhyme ? When is it mostly used ?
(111.)

15. What is the effect of Quantity on English Metre ? (112.)

10. What are " Slurred Syllables " ? Show that the Elizabethan pronun-
ciation differed from ours. (114.)

QUESTIONS. 289

17. What is the effect of the Pause in Metre ? Give some instances. (115
—121.)

18. What is Alliteration ? Give instances of artistic and also of excessive
Alliteration; and show the influence exerted by early English Poetry in
this respect. (122—128.)

19. Show that in the Initial Foot more license is allowed than in the other
feet. What is the cause of this? (129.)

CHAPTER II.

1. Show that some of Shakspeare's so-called Alexandrines are in reality
couplets of three accents. (132.)

2. Show the effect of Coesura in the Iambic of four accents. (133.)

3. How does Milton use the Trochaic of four accents ? (134.)

4. Give instances of Elision. (137.)

5. In what cases can you have a Trochee in the five-accent Iambic line.
(138.)

6. How does Blank Verse differ from Rhyming Verse ? (139.)

7. How does Rhyming Narrative differ from the Rhyming Couplet. (140.)

8. Describe (1) Shakspeare's Sonnet, (2) Milton's Sonnet. (141.)

CHAPTER III.

1. What is the general effect of the Trisyllabic Metre ? (144.)

2. Show the difficulty of determining in all cases the Scansion of Tri-
syllabic Metre. (145.)

3. What disadvantages attend the use of Trisyllabic Metre ? (100.)

FOURTH PART.

1. How do scientific and non-scientific composition differ ? (151.)

2. Distinguish between Oratory and Didactic Composition. (154, 155.)

3. In what class of composition may Poetry generally be placed ? (152.)

4. What kind of argument is unsuited for oratory ? (154.)

5. Give an instance from Shakspeare of the difference between effective
and ineffective oratory. (154d.)

6. Give instances of the successful and oi the unsuccessful use of the
supernatural. (156, 157.)

7. What is meant by the unity of feeling in an imaginative work ? Give
instances of the violation of it. (159.)

290 QUESTIONS.

8. Give examples of purely argumentative poems. How should these be
classified? (161.)

9. In what styles of composition does argument principally occur, and how
should the style of composition modify the handling of it ? (102.)

10. Give instances of faulty arrangement in historical narration. (105.)

11. How does a novel differ from a romance ? Give instances of each. (100.)

12. How may a play be neither a tragedy, nor a comedy? Give an
instance of such a play. (100.)

13. What is the original meaning of the word idyll, and what is its
meaning in usage ? (171.)

14. What principle is followed in constructing the plot of an epic poem ?
Illustrate from the iEneid. (172.)

QUESTIONS ON APPENDIX.

1. " All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players."

As You Like It, ii. 7. 140.
By what logical process does Jaques arrive at this conclusion? Give
other instances of this process, e.g., the conclusion arrived at by Timon of
Athens. (173,175.)

2. "If thou never wast at court, thou never sawest good manners ; if
thou never sawest good manners, then thy manners must be wicked ; and
wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Truly, shepherd, thou art in a
parlous state." As You Like It, iii. 1. 40.

Under what head does this error come ? Give another instance pre-
senting greater difficulty. (180.)

3. " The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth.

* ♦ * *

These signs forerun the death or fall of kings."

Richard II. ii. 4. 10.
Explain this reasoning, and give other instances. (182.)

4. " When beggars die, there are no comets seen.

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."

Julius Ccesar, ii. 2, 30.
Many beggars die when one great man dies ; whence then the belief

QUESTIONS. 291

that comets are not seen when beggars die, but are seen when a great man
dies ? Refer to a statement of Lord Bacon. (187.)

5. What are "the five Fallacies'-" ? (177—181.)

6. What is Induction ? What was the original meaning of the word ?
Explain exactly the meaning of generalise. (175.)

7. Give instances of hasty generalization. (183, 184.)

8. What is meant by induction through enumeration ? (183.)

9. Why is experiment necessary to induction ? Show how experiment
can prevent the error post hoc, ergo propter hoc. (186.)

10. It is said that induction is always, incomplete. But if we can
observe the whole of a class, can we not attain a complete induction ?
(184.)

11. Give instances of the misleading effects of prejudice. (182.)

12. What are the two senses in which the word Analogy has been used ?
Which of them is correct ? (188, 189.)

13. In what sense is -the Argument from Analogy an argument, and in
what sense is it not ? Give instances. (190.)

14. What is meant by Proposition, Logical Predicate, Middle Term,
Minor Premise, Antecedent, Syllogism, Copula, and Deduction! (191.)

15. When can a Logical Proposition not be treated as implying that the
subject is included in the Logical Predicate ? (196.)

16. ISTot all rich men are happy.
Some good men are rich.

What can be deduced from these premises ? Illustrate by a diagram. (195.)

17. Express in diagrams the cases where a conclusion can be deduced
from premises. (194.)

18. What is meant by " the quantification of the predicate " ? (197.)
i9. What is meant by (1) a universal, (2) a particular proposition? (198.)

20. What is meant by a convertible proposition ? When can a universal
proposition be converted ? What is the result of converting a universal
affirmative proposition (not being a proposition of identity) ? (198.)

21. If this evidence were given by an eye-witness, we should be bound

to believe it ;
But it is not given by an eye-witness ;
Therefore we are not bound to believe it.
Discuss this reasoning. (199.)

22. Trial by jury is an essential part of the British constitution;
Therefore trial by jury must be the best possible method of trial.

Discuss this reasoning, and supply what is omitted. (200. )

23. When the antecedent or the consequent of a proposition is denied,
what follows ? Illustrate your answer by an example. (199.)

292 QUESTIONS.

24. Anything is excused by necessity.

I am under a necessity to preserve my life,

Therefore anything that I do to preserve my life must be excused.
Discuss this. (201.)

25. Men are rational animals ;
Thomas acts irrationally ;
Therefore Thomas is not a man.

Discuss this. (200, 180.)

26. Suppose that hereafter there were to be discovered an animal
resembling man externally, and also endowed with reason, but destitute oi
the moral sense, what two courses would be open with respect to the
definition, " Man is a rational animal " ? (204. )

27. What is meant by " Ignoratio Elenchi " ? Give an instance. (202.)

28. A palace is a building ;
This is a small palace ;
Therefore this is a small building.

Discuss this. (201.)

29. What is meant by begging the question ? Give an instance. (203.)

30. What is meant by reasoning in a circle ? Give an instance. (203.)

31. Distinguish between Definition and Description. (205.)

32. On what does " mathematical certainty " depend ? (207.)

33. It is probable that he will come here to-day;
It is probable that when he comes he will dine ;
Therefore it is probable that he will dine here to-day.

Comment on the conclusion, and show that there is a danger of being
misled by the use of the word probable. (208.)

Watson and HazelL Printers, London and Aylesbury.

RECENTLY PUBLISHED.

A SHAKESPEARIAN GRAMMAR.— An attempt

to illustrate some of the differences between

Elizabethan and Modern English. By the Rev.

E. A. Abbott, M.A., Head Master of the City of

London School. For the use of Schools. New

and Enlarged Edition. Extra fcap. 8vo, 6s.

Third Thousand.

The principal object being to make a useful booh of reference for
students, and especially for classes in schools, the Plays most
commonly read have been indexed so fully, that, with the aid of a
glossary and historical notes, the references will serve for a complete
commentary.

MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON.

LIVY. — Books I. — X. With Notes and Dissertations
by J. R. Seeley, M.A., Professor of Modern
History in the University of Cambridge. Vol. I.
containing Book I. 8vo, cloth.

Oxford. Printed at the Clarendon Press, and Published by

MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON,

Publishers to the University.

CHEAP SCHOOL BOOKS.

It is proposed to publish a series of very cheap School
Books, books containing from fifty to one hundred pages, in
strong cloth binding, which will be sold at prices varying from
Sixpence to One Shilling.

School Books are seldom preserved for any length of time.
They are exposed to many accidents, and, if they survive
these in a presentable form, they often become obsolete
before they reach the hands of another generation. At the
same time they often contain much more than, as a matter
of fact, can be made use of. Small books, sold at a low
price, which would serve for a term, or a half-year, and
would be read from beginning to end, would, it is thought,
be found by parents to effect an economy in what is often a
heavy expense. Schoolmasters, too, would be thus enabled
to give a variety to the studies of their pupils, which is now
frequently prohibited by considerations of cost.

The following books of the series are just ready : —

1. OYID. Select passages ; with Notes and Introductions by

the Rev. A. J. Church, M.A., Head Master of the Gram-
mar School, Henley-on-Thames. 16mo, cloth, 6d.

2. HORACE. Select Odes ; with Notes and Introductions by

the Rev. W. J. Brodribb, M.A., Rector of Wootton
Rivers, and late Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge.
16mo, cloth, 8d.

3. CAESAR. Selections from the Commentaries, including the

British Expeditions. With Notes by the Rev. F. B.
Butler, Assistant Master in Haileybury College. 16mo,
cloth, 6d.

4. MILTON. Comus, Lycidas, L'Allegro, II Penseroso, and

select Sonnets. With Notes and Introductions by the
Rev. H. R. Huckin, M.A., Fourth Master in Merchant
Taylor's School. 16mo, cloth, 8d.

SEELEY, JACKSON, & HALLIDAY, 54, FLEET STREET.
LONDON. MDCCCLXXI

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Full text of "English lessons for English people"

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